The Splendid Spider-Man
by New DCD
Summary: Untold millions are familiar with a story that goes like this: a young, brilliant outcast is bitten by a unique spider, granting him marvelous abilities he learns to use for good. Hikigaya Hachiman could've never imagined that description would someday apply to him as well. But can a living, breathing human ever match an ideal hero? Could he ever become...a Splendid Spider-Man?
1. Splendid Fantasy

Everything slowly came back into focus.

Weight was crushing the entirety of his being, both physically and emotionally.

His body was pinned under so much debris. He couldn't even see light outside. There was no way for him to break free. A haphazard wreckage of concrete and steel cruelly kept him immobilized, remnants of the overhead collapse.

Was he going to die?

For the second time in as many days, Hikigaya Hachiman wanted to cry. He was scared and cold and so alone, so _scared_ , more scared than he had ever been. _Scared scared scared scared scared SCARED_ **OH GOD, SCARED** -

A loud wail reached his ears. It wasn't his. It snapped him out of his own panic.

He recognized the voice belonging to a young boy, begging for his life. Desperate pleas from someone who knew the end would soon come, and could only helplessly refuse to accept it.

It was hopeless, wasn't it?

No. No, it wasn't hopeless. He refused to let it be so. Hachiman wasn't just any high-school loner any more. Those supplications dripping with despair - he wouldn't let those be someone's last words, much less those of a child.

Mustering strength he didn't know he still had left, he began to lift the imprisoning wreckage off him. Yet, as his head pulsed violently from the strain, he focused on a single thought.

He wasn't just Hikigaya Hachiman. Not anymore.

He was _Spider-Man_ , and he'd carry the weight of the **whole world** if he had to.

* * *

 **THE SPLENDID SPIDER-MAN**

( _Cover Art by glorycolors on twitter_ )

* * *

 **YESTERDAY**

* * *

The briefing room, abuzz with activity, wasn't designed to accommodate so many people simultaneously. Of course, this wasn't your everyday occurrence - the attendance of so many members of Chiba's Special Assault Team would attest to that. Their very presence presented an imposing pressure.

The SATs were Japan's premier urban counter-terrorist tactical units, and would never be deployed under normal circumstances. It would be clear to even the least perceptive of onlookers: something had to be going down. Something big.

"...as you already know, the nature of the bioweapon is still a mystery," the unit captain, Kamiya, stated. "The same goes for the identity of any prospective buyers. What we do have is the location the sale will take place."

"Hard to believe they'd choose a high school to hold an exchange. Are we sure our intel is correct?" A burly man with many years of experience, Imagawa, asked from the back.

"Even if it wasn't, we cannot simply ignore it," Kamiya answered.

Someone else spoke up. "The location makes sense. Sobu High is near sea. Assuming they're transporting the cargo over water, which they most certainly are, it would be quite simple to arrive at the location."

Imagawa turned towards the speaker. "The specialist from Aichi Prefecture's SAT...Enatsu, right? Still, why a school, of all places?"

"If this group is truly connected to that terrorist organization," Enatsu Masaru continued, "they won't care who gets hurt. Even kids." Imagawa grimaced.

On the other side of the room, a rather relaxed officer elbowed the comrade next to him. "Hey, don't look now, but that Enatsu guy? One of my pals from Aichi tells me he's with Team Rainbow."

"Team Rainbow? You actually believe they exist? You might as well say Shocker is real and Kamen Rider is a documentary."

Kamiya inhaled deeply. "We cannot notify the school's directive of what's going to take place. Should we take any preemptive action, the terrorists and the bioweapon may forever remain out of our reach. Thankfully, considering the operation will take place at night, civilian endangerment should not come to pass. Regardless, should you encounter any noncombatants, your secondary objective would be their prompt extraction. Prioritize securing the bioweapon first, though. Who knows how many lives would be in danger should it fall into the hands of domestic subversive elements."

Kamiya paused for a moment before continuing. "Gentlemen, Japan is one of the world's safest and most peaceful countries. Let's make sure it stays that way."

* * *

 _'Save me someday.'_

Yukinoshita's words ran through his head. A conversation with Professor Hiratsuka earlier that day had them brought them back to mind and given them an invasive quality. So invasive, in fact, he just had to forget his house keys at school the day his sister wasn't home. Her entrance exams were coming up and she was staying over at some friend's house to study.

Worst part is he'd arrived home only to notice then that he'd been locked out. As such, Hikigaya Hachiman had no other recourse left but to return the way he came, his destination being Komachi's residence for the night.

Like an automaton, he pedaled onwards, his thoughts elsewhere.

' _Hikigaya, you're always helping people. Have you given thought to the reason why you do that_?' in his mind, he saw Shizuka Hiratsuka,

Of course. It was because he wanted to understand others. He selfishly wanted to understand everything while not caring about being understood.

' _Are you sure that's the only reason_?'

He'd been in an accident in the past. Saved a Dachshund from being run over by a limousine. Rescuing Sable had just been instinct. After all, he couldn't hope to understand a dog any more than he could understand his cat.

Then there were the times he committed "social suicide" as a member of the Service Club. He always told himself that was just part of the job. People came to them with their personal problems, they solved them one way or another. It was simply a matter of efficiency. And yet, he had hurt those around him by allowing himself to be hurt. For someone who at first had no interest in the Service Club's mission statement of providing a helping hand to whoever requested it...

He broke off his contemplation to slow down near Sobu High School. Surprisingly, the main gate was open that late at night. Wow, wasn't that careless? Well, there was no point in staring a gift horse in the mouth, so he wheeled off to the bike rack, secured his vehicle, and walked straight in.

His keys must've been in his desk. Making his way to Class 2F, he made his way through dimly-lit halls illuminated only by moonlight. The atmosphere of the school was really quite eerie, like some urban legend could unfold at any moment. It was a good thing he wasn't superstitious.

He finally reached his classroom and tried the door. It was unlocked, too. He slid it open, and breath caught his throat.

There was someone else inside.

Someone who'd fallen asleep at his desk, drooling over his own workbooks. They were no longer asleep either, catapulted from his slumber by the sound of the door banging against the frame.

"WUH...wuh, wuh time is it?"

Hachiman recognized him as Kakeru Tobe, a classmate. Sporty, loud, part of the popular clique. Exactly the sort of person Hachiman did not care for.

"Hiki...tani?" Tobe uttered, still groggy. Good to see he still got Hachiman's name consistently wrong.

Wordlessly, Hachiman strolled towards his desk and retrieved his misplaced keys, stuffing them into his pocket.

"How did you get in here?" Tobe asked.

"...Gate was open."

Tobe raised an eyebrow, not that Hachiman could make it out in the moonlight. "That never happens."

"Is that so."

"For real, Hikitani!"

Hachiman shrugged. Not that he cared, but it might just be easier to humor the other student. "How would you know?"

"Ehehe, well...this happens to me a little more often than I'd care to admit. Dozing off here, I mean," Tobe grinned sheepishly.

"Just study at home," Hachiman replied, uninterested.

"No way, man! I always get distracted by something else!"

"If you're going to fall asleep, the end result will be the same," Hachiman longed to end the conversation. "Go home, seriously."

"C'mon, Hikitani! Don't you feel you can focus better at school? When I stay here, study sessions are like, twice as eff-"

" **POLICE. YOU ARE SURROUNDED**."

Both boys froze. "What the he-" but before Hachiman could finish, loud crackling sounds, like a thousand firecrackers going off, interrupted him.

Real gunfire may sound completely different to how it does in TV and movies, but nevertheless Hachiman identified it immediately. As far as he could tell, the noise came from the outside the windows.

The situation was completely surreal. One moment, he was retrieving his house keys without much of a care, and the next, he was in close proximity to World War III.

"Hikitani! What do we do, man?!" Tobe's agitated voice snapped him out of his trance. Right...right, they had to do something!

"Back of the room!" Hachiman called, "Away from the windows!"

Both high schoolers sprinted and hunkered down in relative safety. Shakily, Tobe whispered, "What do we do?!"

"C-Call the police," Hachiman said, trying to maintain his own composure and failing miserably at that. His entire body was shaking violently. "Before the shooting started, s-someone announced they were with the police. They might be able to send someone up here to get us."

"G-good idea! You're a genius, Hikitani!" Tobe lamely attempted to lift his own spirits. Considering how he fumbled and dropped his cell phone on the floor, that didn't work as intended. Silently muttering curses, Tobe scrambled to pick the device up.

And then, Hikigaya Hachiman realized his one critical oversight.

"Thought I smelled rats."

Both students became paralyzed with fear. It took Hachiman some time to turn his head, ever-so-slowly, towards the source of the voice.

"Hey, boss. We got potential hostages over here. Two of 'em," a large man, probably American, spoke heavily-accented into what Hachiman could only assume was a wireless earpiece.

There are many actions that can expose you to peril, but Hachiman would've never included _'not closing his classroom door behind him_ ' to that list.

"D-don't kill us!" Tobe stammered a panicked plea. The thuggish intruder, in response, raised a lethal tool and aimed it directly at them. The sight of the pistol drew an undignified yelp from Tobe.

As for Hachiman, his mouth was too dry to even make such noises.

"I'll think about it if you kids don't try no funny business."

Hachiman barely registered the exchange, though. He was more focused on a shadowy, square-like figure... floating lazily just above the ground? It was hard to make out in the dark, but he thought it was some sort of...drone?

"Y-you got the gun, you call the shots!" Tobe blurted out.

"A pun? Cute. But you know what? Boss said we only needed one of you, and I don't like wordy guys."

" **I-I DIDN'T MEAN TO** ," Tobe pleaded in frightened desperation. " **PLEASE, I'M JUST A TEEN, I WANT TO L-**!"

The man raised his weapon at Tobe.

He didn't have the time to think _'this will get me killed, for sure_ '. Fueled by pure, unbridled adrenaline, Hachiman tackled Tobe to the ground. The loud explosion of the handgun firing burnt itself in his ears, and the bullet headed straight for his flank.

He must've spent a lifetime's worth of luck as the bullet pierced his coat's jacket and lodged itself in the nearby wall, missing his fleshy bits entirely.

"Pfeh. I changed my mind. Wordy beats stupid."

He was dead. Hikigaya Hachiman was so, so dead-

It was then that the assassin was hit by an intense blast of concussive force seemingly from nowhere.

" **ARGGGHH!** " the man dropped his weapon and tripped, completely disoriented.

What just happened?

It was then that Hachiman noticed the drone from earlier, somehow stuck to the ceiling.

A tinny voice came from the drone: "Run!"

They didn't need to be told twice. They sprinted out of the classroom as fast as they could, maybe even faster. Tobe, being the more athletic one, put quite some distance between them.

Enough distance for Hikigaya to notice him come to a dead stop, raise his hands and slowly back away from the shoe lockers by the entrance. Instinctively, Hachiman hid on the other side of the lockers.

"Now, now, young man. You're coming with me," he heard an unseen individual say. "You're my ticket out of here, so if you'd please..."

Hachiman could see sirens flashing blue and red in the distance. If he approached the exit quietly, he'd be home free.

He'd also be leaving Kakeru Tobe to this fate. Was that so bad? He'd already saved Tobe's life once tonight. He should be grateful already, right?

Somehow, despite reason ordering him to escape as quickly as he could, that didn't sit right with Hachiman.

So, coming from behind the lockers, he lunged with a howl and grabbed onto the man from behind, toppling him to the ground.

With a yelp, a sharply-dressed man fell forward, his lower body pinned by the result of Hachiman's attack. The man's pistol slid past Tobe, and the reinforced cylindrical container in the man's other hand bashed against the floor, bursting open.

Out of the container came something black and bigger than a fist, eight appendages landing on the man's neck.

A spider. A gigantic, frightening huntsman spider.

"Oh fu-" the felled man couldn't even finish his sentence before the arachnid bit down. What came next shook Hachiman to the very core. He couldn't tear his gaze away as the hapless victim he'd knocked over began convulsing and foaming at the mouth. He was clearly dying, and Hachiman could feel the bile rising...

He didn't notice the spider had chosen another target.

"Hikigaya!"

A shoe slammed against his forearm but it was too late. He could feel the fangs piercing his clothes, and his skin...and heat. Unbearable heat.

He was going to die now. It was his turn.

Hachiman wanted to cry, but he wouldn't even get a chance to do that much.

Darkness, merciless darkness, claimed him.

* * *

"Quite the complicated arrangement you've come up with," a tall, well-built man stared down at Chiba City from his lavish penthouse. With slicked-back hair and clad in an expensive designer suit, he immediately impressed power both physical and financial.

"A way to make sure the police's attention would be elsewhere, as well as rid ourselves of...troublesome employees," another well-dressed man, carrying a silver briefcase, approached the first from behind. Curiously, he wore sunglasses indoors, at night. "The kind that would make back-door deals detrimental to our organization."

The first man smirked. "It's hard to get good help these days. Still, I must ask, giving them the spider?"

"I assure you, Mr. Kimura, all my moves are calculated," the other man said. "A bite from the experiment is guaranteed to be lethal, so it still had use for me. A final insurance policy, if you will, coupled with a credible threat to misdirect law enforcement."

"You handle your business however you see fit, Salesman," Kimura Keisuke retorted. "All I care is you deliver on the product you promised."

"Naturally," Salesman placed his briefcase atop the nearby mahogany desk and undid the latches holding it shut, revealing its contents. A jet injector loaded with a vial of green liquid sat on a foam tray, alongside a pair of devices resembling cuff bangles and an assortment of capsule-like objects. The bespectacled man took the injector in hand, approaching his client. "Clothes off, please."

Kimura removed his suit and shirt, revealing a toned, herculean physique. The most striking feature of his bare torso, though, had to be the gigantic _irezumi_ tattoo of a monstrous spider-creature occupying most of his back. The beautiful ink-work created an impactful contrast with its grotesque subject matter.

Salesman placed the needle-free injector to Kimura's arm. Finally, he'd see the results to a decade-long wait. Soon, power would be his, power unlike any seen before. All his, inimitable by anybody else.

Soon, the world would know the truth.

* * *

 **TODAY**

 **[A Day Unlike Any Other]**

* * *

' _I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_ ' his mind screamed. His body reacted in turn, catapulting him awake and off the hospital bed with blinding speed.

His heart was beating a mile a minute. Wait, his heart was beating. He was breathing. He was alive. _Alive_. He began to inhale slower, and slower, but then-

"Hiki...tani?"

He stared down at Kakeru Tobe, his eyes wider than they'd ever been, mouth agape.

Wait a moment...

He was...staring down?

 _Staring down_?

What was going on? Was he dreaming? Was this some weird sort of dying fantasy?

He was staring down at Kakeru Tobe. Staring down, **UPSIDE-DOWN** , at Kakeru Tobe, whose expression was slowly changing from bewildered to giddy.

Hikigaya Hachiman was stuck to the ceiling.

Before he could get a chance to process the situation, though, he felt a prickling, tingly sensation on the back of his head.

"Keep it down," Hachiman ordered, aware knowing Tobe could be ridiculously loud. "I need you to keep it quiet for once."

Tobe, who nearly blurted out in excitement, admirably composed himself. He still had to say his piece, though, albeit he thankfully controlled his volume this time. "Holy crap, Hikitani. You...you're like Spider-Man!"

"Do you realize how **ridiculous** that sounds?" Hachiman retorted, attempting to maintain his composure by dissenting.

"Do you realize you're stuck to the ceiling?"

Hachiman shook his head. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening! _This couldn't be real_! There's no way the abilities of an American comic book superhero could ever be real! He wasn't Peter Parker, Spider-Man! "There...there has to be a logical explanation for this."

"There is! You were bitten by a spider! A _radioactive_ spider!"

It was true he'd been bitten by a spider - a spider whose bite had meant death to someone else, no less. "Okay, yes, I was bitten by a spider, but it's too early to say if that's the cause of all this."

"What else could it _even_ be, Hikitani? Spider bite," Tobe gestured with his hands, "Spider-Man," he gestured again.

"Stop calling me Hikitani, that isn't my name," Hikigaya jabbed, feeling the onset of the mother of all headaches. Still, if he focused on how infuriating Kakeru Tobe could be, he might be able to keep it together. He then rubbed his palm across his face. "Just...just tell me what happened."

"I know it isn't, but I kind of kept using it as a nickname, y'know?" Tobe shrugged. "Anyways, aren't you going to get down first?"

 _'Right. This is going to take some getting used to'_ , he thought.

With a flip, he landed effortlessly in front of Tobe, causing him to gasp and jump a little.

"Whoah, Hikita-Hikigaya, that was seriously sick!"

"Focus. I need to understand the situation at hand," Hachiman said. In truth, he was trying to keep himself from freaking out.

"I-I guess. You're being awfully calm about this whole thing, though."

He looked calm?! Had his experiences as a loner made him so stoic he could project composure while losing his mind?!

Tobe cleared his throat. "Anyways, you fainted yesterday after getting bit. I tried to crush the spider, but...I wasn't fast enough."

 _'Clearly not...'_ Hachiman thought.

Tobe continued. "It wasn't long afterwards that the cops came in and got us out. Took us to the hospital, and here we are."

"The hospital, huh...? That might be a problem," Hachiman said.

Indeed, it very well could be. His new ability meant his body had to have gone through some drastic changes. Changes that would no doubt show in medical tests, tests no doubt ran on him while unconscious. Was he going to be studied? _Analyzed?_ **Vivisected**?!

The tingling sensation Hachiman had been experiencing since his awakening exploded with sudden intensity.

"No need to worry about that. I've got it under control."

The voice belonged to neither of the two boys, yet they were the only two people in the room. Looking up, he saw a drone affixed to the ceiling which hadn't been there before. Or had it?

It was roughly the same size and shape as the one he'd seen the previous night, the one who bought them the opening they needed to escape their first assailant.

The unsettling sensation was completely gone now. Odd. Regardless, Hachiman decided not to dwell on that. "Are you the one who saved us yesterday?"

"That's right. I'm Enatsu Masaru, Aichi Prefectural Police. I'd rather you call me 'Echo', though," a man spoke through the drone.

Why was a police officer from Aichi involved in a case from Chiba? There was something big going on here, Hachiman was sure of it. For now, though, it was better to play along. "I don't have to worry? Care to elaborate?"

"Let's just say someone gained backdoor access to the hospital's servers and replaced your test results. You're welcome."

Hachiman released a sigh he hadn't known he'd been holding. Who knows what would happen if word got out. He was already uncomfortable enough with two people, one a complete stranger, already privy to his strange situation.

"You know spying on people isn't the best thing to do, officer," Hikigaya snarked, staring at the device affixed to the ceiling.

Echo snorted. "I'd prefer calling it keeping you under surveillance. Oh, the footage from the hospital's security feed has been altered as well. Shouldn't you be glad I'm around?"

Hachiman shrugged dispassionately. "Beats me."

"Come on, Hikigaya," Tobe assuaged. "I met Mr. Enatsu yesterday. He got us out of the school and stuck with us all the way here!"

 _'So he could place his little spy drone'_ , Hachiman retorted internally. _'What's his game?'_

He decided to ask directly. "What am I to you? You're going through quite some trouble for my sake. Shouldn't you report this to your superiors?"

Echo chuckled, causing the speaker he talked over to crackle. "What's the fun in that?"

Hachiman groaned, reminded of a certain troublesome woman. "Give me a break..."

"Let me cut you a deal - I'll get you out of the hospital. Front door, no funny business, I'll check you out personally. In exchange, I want to see what you're able to do."

"What if I refuse?" Hachiman glared at the intruding device still stuck to the ceiling. He also would've stuffed his hands into his pockets, if he had any. He then realized he'd been changed into hospital wear; thankfully, it was the type that resembled pajamas rather than a gown.

"I'm not going to coerce you into doing what I want-" Echo answered, "-but just think about it. You need to learn what you're capable of doing, sooner rather than later. You slip, show someone something they shouldn't see because you had no control over it, and next thing you know, you're the next viral video sensation. Something tells me that's not what you want."

"Is that really it? This is out of the goodness of your heart?" Hikigaya's eyes narrowed. There was no way he'd buy that.

"...Listen, boy. I was interested in you before I-"

"Is that really something a grown man should be saying about a high school student?" Hachiman interjected with his usual dry wit.

Echo decided to ignore the verbal bullet. "Before I knew you could stick to walls. I saw how you saved your friend there."

"He's not my friend," Hachiman retorted. "He barely registers as an acquaintance."

"Hikita-Hikigaya!" Tobe protested meekly, yet loudly.

"Could've sworn you two were close. Guy stayed with you the whole night."

"Hey, he saved my life! Twice! Least I could do is make sure he's alright," Tobe said.

"By the way, you're digging yourself deeper," Echo said. "You risked your life for an 'acquaintance' without second thought."

"I had plenty of second thoughts!" Hachiman said.

"All I'm saying," Echo continued, "is that in my line of work, you learn to appreciate guys like you, always ready to take a risk to keep others safe."

Hachiman shook his head. "Not interested in becoming a cop." Not after the incident yesterday, at least. He was more house-husband material, in his opinion…

"I'm not trying to take you under my wing or anything like that, if that's what you're thinking. I said I can appreciate people like you, and that just makes me want to help you out. So, will you accept my aid?"-

Hachiman sighed once more, pinching the bridge of his nose. Accepting Echo's offer was the logical recourse left available to him, but he knew he wasn't being told the whole story. "All right. I accept. Come get us out."

* * *

"Now, Kimura, care to elaborate on why you called for this meeting?"

A throng of important-looking men sat around a rectangular table many times longer than it was wide. The enormous room was part of a traditional Japanese estate, known to Chiba's law enforcement as neutral ground for Chiba's Yakuza families.

At the head of the table sat Kimura Keisuke, his back to a majestic tapestry depicting a fierce warrior entangled in battle with a many-headed dragon monster. He was flanked by suited bodyguards, just like the rest of the attendees.

"I called this emergency session to deliver an ultimatum: work for me, or suffer the consequences."

The room stayed deadly silent. Security personnel tensed and slid their hands into their suits, ready to produce their firearms at a moment's notice.

An older-looking man, halfway bald with graying temples and sporting thick-rimmed eyeglasses, was the first to make a sound, laughing at the ridiculous assertion. Soon, he was raucously joined by many of the others in attendance. "Beg pardon?" he wiped a tear with his finger. "Have you lost your marbles, boy?"

His disrespect earned him a faceful of goop connected to a gossamer strand. It pulled him down, crashing his head against the edge of the table with a sickening crunch. The victim slid down his seat, limp, leaving a grotesque stain of dark red dripping from the mahogany finish.

The laughter stopped, and pistols from everywhere in the room were pointed at Kimura Keisuke, who smirked at the pointless gesture.

" **KIMURA**! This is a declaration of war!" a portly man bellowed as he rose from his seat, his guards clustering tighter and tighter.

"There will be no war," Kimura replied confidently, resting his cheek on his fist.

"You're damn right there won't be!" Another man shouted, motioning with his arm. Dozens of guns went off, filling the air with a cacophony of crackles.

"H-how?!" One of the bodyguards stammered. He'd emptied his entire magazine, as had done several others, yet Kimura had evaded the projectiles with ease and superhuman grace. That question was the last thing he'd ever say - Kimura's fist struck his chest, shattering his sternum and caving his ribs in.

All with a single punch.

"H-he isn't human!"

Terror.

"He's sticking to the wall!"

Gunfire.

"Oh God, he's coming this way!"

"Run, run!"

 _Screams_.

When you see yourself as the apex predator, it's impossible to imagine someone or some _thing_ higher than you in the food chain. The broken, tattered bodies of the top players in Chiba's underworld were proof of that. They thought themselves untouchable, enduring, all but immortal. They had achieved stability among themselves, with no cause to sleep uneasy at night. They feasted on the city like a parasite feasts on its host, lining their greedy pockets at the cost of dread and blood.

Now it was their blood that pooled under the deranged Kimura Keisuke's leather loafers.

It had been a slaughter. Just as well, for they deserved their just desserts, he thought. He'd sold his soul to them, and they no longer served him any purpose. Like a tumor, they had to be excised.

He couldn't hear the tiny whisper of his suppressed conscience, crying that this was wrong. That this wasn't how he should do things.

No, it wasn't wrong, because Kimura Keisuke was a man on a mission, and the mission was everything that mattered. It'd already cost him everything.

He was thinking clearly. More clearly than ever. He was focused on the mission. His mind was clear.

 _…_ _Right_?

The few remaining gunmen had all dropped their weapons, kneeling prostrate, pressing their heads to the ground. They all blubbered apologies and begged to accept his original offer.

"I have use for you yet."

They showered him with a chorus of gratitude and praise. Kimura noticed one of the men had become incontinent, but paid it no care. He walked behind that one tapestry and retrieved a rectangular crate almost as tall as him, hoisting it on his shoulder like it weighted next to nothing. Placing it in front of his new followers, he tore the lid open, revealing an impressive array of assault weaponry.

"Call everyone you know who'll take a job," he tossed an M4 Carbine to one of his lackeys as casually as one would lob a canned drink at a friend. "We're going to rock the town like it's never been done."

* * *

"I'm all right, Komachi. Just had to stay out for the night with...a classmate."

"Eeeeeh!? Big bro...you're not with a girl, are you?"

"Don't get any funny ideas," Hachiman deadpanned, holding his smartphone to his ear. "You know him. It's Tobe. Remember him from Chiba Village?"

"Hello-hello, Komachi!" Tobe chirped from the backseat of the white sedan Echo drove.

"Since when are you two friends?" Komachi asked doubtful, and Hachiman could picture her raising an eyebrow.

"We aren't," Hachiman retorted dryly. He ignored Tobe's protests in the background. "I'm just helping him with something. Service Club business."

"Well, make sure to answer your phone next time! Mom was really worried. Dad was totally calm, though."

"Of course he was," Hachiman shrugged, struck by small pangs of both guilt and disappointment in tandem. "Sorry, my phone battery died and I forgot to turn it on till now. I'll be home by evening."

"You better not make your little sister worry so much! She really can't imagine a life without you! Ah! That won a _loooooot_ of points in my book!" Komachi said.

Hachiman snorted and allowed himself to grin a little. He was overwhelmed with all he'd experienced in the past few hours, but his little sister's ever-constant antics brought with them much needed normalcy. "See you soon, Komachi."

Not long after the call had ended, Echo stopped near what appeared to be an old, dilapidated warehouse. "All right, kids," he reached for and then popped open the glove box. "Masks on."

Hachiman, sitting on the passenger's seat, retrieved two balaclavas alongside two sets of dark-tinted tactical goggles. He handed one of each to Tobe before pulling the concealing garment down over his face, followed by adjusting the eyewear. He glanced at the rear-view mirror, making sure his features were entirely hidden.

His outfit was spartan and not the best fit for the current winter season: he wore a short-sleeved white t-shirt alongside a pair of dark blue sweatpants, a pair of white stripes running down the outer leg on each side. Finally, his hands were covered by rather thin full-fingered gloves. How Echo had managed to obtain these clothes on such short notice, though - alongside running shoes just the right size - eluded him.

"Now go," Echo gestured with a tilt of the head.

"Wait, you're not coming with us?" Hachiman asked as he reached for the door.

"That wouldn't be efficient," Echo grinned. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on you with my Yokai," he pointed his thumb at his flying drone, propped on the seat next to Tobe's.

' _Does he use his drone for everything? Maybe this guy's just lazy_ ,' Hachiman pondered as he swung the door open.

They stepped out of the car, leaving the driver behind and making their way towards the ruined building, the Yokai drone leisurely trailing them. As they neared their destination, the officer's voice spoke into their left ears. "Testing, testing. How's the integrated earpiece?"

"Wow, this is cool!" Tobe yelled, and Hachiman had the displeasure of hearing it from two places at once. "Wait, you can hear us?"

"Ten-four," Echo replied. "Just a little something I've been working on."

"I thought you were a cop," Hachiman questioned.

"I'm an engineer first, policeman second."

"Uh-huh. Did you build your drone, too?"

"I did," Echo answered. "I got an offer from Security Bureau of the National Police Agency. They've been sponsoring my projects since, and I get to test them in the field myself."

"So you're really an engineer?" Tobe asked in disbelief as both he and Hachiman spotted what looked like a door-less entryway.

"I could show you my diploma if you'd like," Echo replied somewhat grumpily.

"All right, all right," Hachiman interjected. "We're here already. Let's get this over with."

The ground floor of the warehouse had piles of rubble strewn everywhere. Empty crates were left turned over, their contents long gone. A flight of rusted steel stairs led to a mezzanine floor, with a structure that had once been an office residing in the far corner. Pieces of the sheet-metal flooring on said upper level were missing. Elsewhere, dirty-looking graffiti evidenced that while the two boys might've not been the first visitors to this place, they might as well been the only ones in quite some time.

"This place sure has seen better days," Hachiman thought out loud.

"It was a rather important staging area for a few high-profile contraband operations," Echo said. "Legitimate businessmen don't want to scoop it up in case former management decides to show up, and said management consider it compromised."

"Perfect for our little test run, then," Tobe punched his palm with his fist.

"...What's he doing here, again?" Hachiman narrowed his eyes behind his goggles.

"Thought you would appreciate the company," Echo replied.

Hachiman sighed. "Clearly, you've just met me."

"Wow, Hikigaya, that's cold, man," Tobe protested.

Echo chuckled. "Consider him a control group. In any case, let's get started. How about you run around a bit, see how fast you can move?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's do it."

He willed his body onwards with a mighty stride, then another, and then another. He was picking up speed, deftly dodging the refuse that littered the place as if on instinct. No, it was definitely instinct. It was an exhilarating sensation, his movement so fluid and so elegant, as if he'd been practicing it for years. He came to a large slab of concrete resting at an angle against a pillar, stepped on it and ran up the column before realizing he wasn't sticking to it. Before he could start falling, he kicked and propelled himself upwards through the air, straight towards another pillar. This time, he grabbed on with his hands.

"...That scratches superhuman speed and agility off the list," Echo assessed after being wordless for a short moment. "I must admit, that was… well, amazing."

"I think I can't stick to surfaces with these shoes," Hachiman panted, less from exhaustion and more from unparalleled excitement. "No problem with the gloves, though."

"That's good to know. Okay, next up: Tobe, please find something heavy. Something so heavy you can't lift it."

"W-whuh?" Tobe shook his head, snapping from the trance brought by spectating the greatest display of athletic prowess the world had seen to date. "R-right. Maybe we can use that chunk of concrete Spidey just used."

"Stop calling me Spider-Man!" Hikigaya groaned. "I'm not Spide-"

That sensation again. So strong! Telling him to move! So he did.

Hachiman dodged an invisible blast. "What th-"

It was tingling again! He had to jump!

Another attack followed. "-thehellareyoudoing?!"

Once more! He leapt straight into the air and flipped at the apex, landing on a crouch!

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Hachiman glared angrily at the Yokai drone, affixed beneath the steel frame of the mezzanine.

"Spider Sense, check." Echo answered.

"...Spider Sense," Hachiman repeated. Holy crap, it's true, he had, of all things, **SPIDER SENSE**.

…And once again, it was telling him to move! He evaded another blast wave, and then another, and one more for good measure.

Then something hit him.

"Ow!"

Something struck him in the back. Something round. Turning, he saw a tennis ball roll along the ground.

"What was that for?!"

Tobe rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Heheh, sorry."

"In the event you had Spider Sense, I wanted to test how well it managed simultaneous threats," Echo clarified. "Maybe it prioritizes threats? Well, until we can come up with a way to further test it, it's all meaningless speculation. In any case, we know for certain you have Spider Sense."

"I would've liked a heads-up..." Hachiman grumbled.

"Would've defeated the purpose of the test, wouldn't it?" Echo retorted. "Time for the strength check."

Tobe attempted to lift the slab of concrete Hachiman had run over. Naturally, it was too large and heavy for him to even budge it. "Okay, now you try."

Hachiman grabbed onto the chunk. He strained and grunted but it still felt far lighter than he thought it should be. Holding onto the piece of masonry, he spun and with the aid of his angular momentum, sent it flying across the warehouse with such force it struck the ceiling.

"Uh...wow," Echo stammered. "I saw the dust cloud all the way out here. Super strength, definitely che- hold on, I need to take this." Both Tobe and Hachiman didn't register his words, though, as they were both busy staring in awe at the pieces of concrete raining down from above.

"So far, it looks like you got all the powers," Tobe declared, struggling to tear his gaze from the new skylight Hachiman had just opened. "Do you have webs?"

Hachiman stared down at his wrists, studying them carefully, before shaking his head. "Not from here, at least."

"I think that was only in the movie that came out when we were ki-" but Tobe was interrupted before he could finish.

"Come back," Echo ordered bluntly, urgency and agitation dripping in his tone. "Right away. Bring Yokai."

They gave each other an aside glance, neither able to read the other's expression behind their headgear. Wordlessly, they complied, and with a brisk pace, both exited the makeshift training grounds and made their way back to the car.

Once inside, they could tell the driver's countenance was unbearably grim.

"W-what's going on?" Tobe asked, gently placing the drone on the seat next to his.

"...Multiple armed disturbances are being reported all throughout Chiba City," Echo breathed huskily and Hachiman felt a chill run down his spine. "From hostage situations to armed robbery and everything in between, all at once."

The engine roared to life and Echo floored the accelerator. "It's bad. It's really, really bad," he kept explaining to the befuddled teenagers as he exceeded any conceivable speed limits.

As Echo tore down Keiyo Road, Tobe's thumb urgently swiped at his smartphone. "Yeah, it's really happening everywhere...social media is on fire. Wait, what's this...? H-hey, Hikigaya, you really need to see this."

Hachiman, having just sent a text message to Komachi, pocketed his phone and accepted Tobe's. The other boy had just presented him with amateur footage of the situation further into the city. Police officers exchanged arms fire with criminals in the plaza outside Chiba-Chuo Station. A few of the officers took cover behind an inoperative water fountain, a pyramid made out mostly of stone bricks.

Then, his blood ran cold.

A shirtless man, tall and muscular and wit, landed near the middle of the policemen's formation, seemingly from nowhere. He kicked one square on the chest, sending him flying somewhere unseen. Another combatant tried to punch him, but the assailant sidestepped with blinding speed, caught the forearm...and squeezed.

Bone snapped, twisting the victim's flopping arm unnaturally backwards. His screams of pains didn't last, though, as the attacker spun with a leap and landed an airborne high kick on the officer's neck, silencing him forever.

Hachiman winced, unconsciously reaching for his own throat.

The playback continued. Officers began to discharge their weapons at the killer, despite the possibility of friendly fire in such close quarters. Their enemy moved swift, danced around their attacks, and leapt forward. Something, unseen in grainy video, latched onto one of the policemen and made him trip, as if the assailant was pulling them.

The attacker's feet hit the ground and he pivoted, swinging his arm as he did. The unfortunate policemen rocketed through the air and smashed into his comrades, like some sort of human flail.

There was no doubt about it, Hachiman knew. The man with the full-back spider tattoo had to have been holding onto a web. The silver bangles on his wrists, those must be web shooters. This man had to have the same powers as him.

The man in the video let go of the web, and the camera followed the battered human weapon. The poor officer headed straight for a tree...

Hachiman had to look away. The crunching sound alone was already nightmarish enough.

With a trembling hand, he thrust the phone back at Tobe.

An explosion went off in the distance, and the reality that Chiba had become a war zone dawned on the passengers.

"Where...are we going?" Hachiman asked despondent. The cold, slimy tendrils of fear slithered through his back and grasped at his being.

"Police Station. I need to report in and gear up. Also need to figure out what to do with you guys."

Was he expecting Hachiman to fight? No, no, no. He couldn't. Law enforcement would never ask civilians to fight their battles.

Or could he? Could he be asked to face off against the tattooed killer, being the only other person in the world with comparable abilities?

His mind screamed, his body trembled. He never asked for these powers...was there a relation between the timing of Hachiman receiving them and the appearance of that super-powered murderer?! He didn't care. He wasn't a fighter. He was only a teenager. A terrified teenager. A terrified teenager with _powers he didn't ask for_.

Echo made a sharp turn and abruptly braked, tires skidding on asphalt.

There was a police blockade a few meters away from them, under heavy automatic fire.

"Out! Out!" Echo commanded. "Stay low, stay in cover!"

No. No, Hachiman wouldn't stay around and fight. It wasn't his responsibility. He was young and afraid to die, and he'd already been through too many close calls.

Fueled by terror and adrenaline, Hikigaya Hachiman bolted as fast as his legs could take him. He ran. He ran, disregarding Echo and Tobe calls for him. He ran because he didn't know what else to do. Where was he going? He couldn't say. Just anywhere but towards a fight, towards risking his life for the faceless and the nameless.

He scaled the side of a low building, darted across the roof, and made a long jump onto another. He did it again, and one more time, ignoring the cold in the air, just wanting to get as far away from the killing and the maiming as possible.

He was stopped by a scream, followed by automatic gunfire, and then whimpers.

A hoarse voice called out. " **YOU UNDERSTAND THE SITUATION NOW?! NEXT TIME WE'LL ACTUALLY HIT ONE OF YOU**."

He was standing atop the Seiyu in Kasuga, and underneath him, a shady thug in sunglasses held an assault rifle on one hand while keeping a salaryman on a headlock with his other arm. He wasn't alone, either, as a crowd of terrified onlookers, seeking to flee the scene, were threatened by more heavily armed, suited gunmen.

" **NOW GET INSIDE, ALL OF YOU! UNLESS YOU THINK YOU CAN OUTRUN A BULLET**."

Hachiman felt his throat dry. He-he wanted to run away. This wasn't his problem...right?

He wanted to run away. So why wouldn't his legs move?!

Why would they refuse to budge?!

 _'Save me someday.'_

Why was he hearing Yukino's voice now? Why did those words come have to come back to him?

 _'Hikigaya, you're always helping people. Have you given thought to the reason why you do that?'_ Now it was Professor Hiratsuka's turn to haunt him.

Why? Why? _Why_? **Why**?!

How come he knew he should escape-

-yet his very soul screamed ' **do something** '?

He was no hero.

He was just a kid. A scared, cowardly kid who couldn't even handle social interaction. A kid who would normally mind his own business, keep his head down and stay out of trouble.

Yet, he couldn't. He never really could do that, could he? Not this time, not ever.

He gazed down at the mewling hostages, corralled into the building with guns to their back. He saw himself in that crowd. They were powerless individuals cruelly trampled underfoot. He understood that pain.

But now, he wasn't so powerless anymore.

He'd always prided himself in following his own twisted logic, but that had been a lie. He was never all that logical.

 _'Hikigaya, you're always helping people. Have you given thought to the reason why you do that?'_

The answer was simple.

He had none. He didn't need one. _Do you really need a reason to help people_?

The chill of fear was replaced with courage burning hotter than the sun.

He clenched his fist, grit his teeth, and began to look for his way in.

* * *

"Now list'n here, folks. We rather keep y'all alive. Orders from above, you see? But you try anything stupid, and we make an example out of ya."

To emphasize his point, the speaker racked the slide of his pistol with a clack, causing the hostages rounded up near the cash registers to whimper some more.

"That means no cell phones. Big load'a good calling the cops will do you, anyways. They're otherwise preoccupied. So don't try it! No recording, either, unless you want your skull ventilated."

Slinking through the aisles of the ground level's grocery section in his socks, Hachiman formulated a plan on the fly. Spotting some cans in a nearby rack, he grinned nervously behind his balaclava. Maybe it wasn't too late to double back?

"Alright," the apparent leader of the hostage-takers drawled. "Now, folks, straight file, towards the escalators...get moving."

A can of miso soup soared in the general direction of the armed thugs...only to miserably clank onto the ground before reaching its intended target, spilling its scrumptious contents all over the floor.

"Damn it!" Hachiman cursed under his breath as he quietly ducked into another aisle. He held back on his throw too much. If he didn't control his inhuman strength, he could accidentally kill someone, but putting too little strength into his pitch was no good either.

"...What was that?" One of the criminals raised an eyebrow.

"We've got company. Stupid company from the looks of it. Spread out and look for 'em. Kentaro, Hideo, with me. We're escorting the collateral."

This, Hachiman knew, he had to use to his advantage. He'd counted eight gunmen, so if he could thin their numbers...

The sensation from his Spider Sense started to intensify. No doubt one of them was getting close.

The gunman walked down the aisle with calm, deliberate steps, aiming down his iron sights. So focused was he on meticulously sweeping, he didn't realize a masked figure behind him cleared the rack between that aisle and the adjacent one with a single bound.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. The rifleman turned and a gloved fist immediately introduced itself to his cheek, scrunching his features.

Hikigaya Hachiman had never thrown a punch in his life before, yet his first strike had been powerful enough to put a guy that looked like a boxing champion out cold.

Before said would-be pugilist crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, Hachiman grabbed him by the wrist and gently controlled the descent of the unconscious goon. It had been a completely silent take-down, thanks in no small part to the presence of a rifle sling which kept the gunman's weapon from clattering against linoleum.

 _'_ _One down, seven to go.'_

Sneakily making his way to one end of the superstore, he cleared over the meat refrigerators and crawled up the wall and onto the ceiling. Advancing from above, he spotted two more goons about to converge with one another around the produce. Perfect.

"Looks clear to me," said one of the gunmen.

"Yeah, nowhere to hide around here," the other replied.

"Wow, you two aren't winning any hide-and-seek games anytime soon."

Hachiman had reflexively taunted the thugs as he sprang into action. Those two only had time to gape in awe as his form darted from overhead and landed between them, for he then smashed their skulls together. Another clean knock-out, and this time Hachiman prevented a noisy fall by grasping at the back of their collars.

 _'_ _Five left_.'

The back of his neck started to prickle. Another one was just around the aisle, and was closing in fast - he could hear his heavy footsteps approaching. Next to Hachiman bushels of bananas were on display, and with no time to conceal himself, he decided to try his pitching arm one more time.

The bananas struck the ground a split second before the next scout turned the corner, becoming a gooey mess of mush and peels. The encroaching stalker, splashed on impact, was caught completely unaware. His moccasin slipped on the pulpy mass, causing him to fall over backwards and take a nasty blow to the head against a display refrigerator.

Dazed and supine, the gunman tried to get his bearings back, but he wouldn't get a chance to do so.

"Sorry, forgot to put up the ' _wet floor_ ' sign."

A punch from Hachiman, and it was lights out for the searcher. Only four left, and the last three were on another floor.

Hachiman let go of a deep, nervous sigh. This was working, much to his own surprise, but it didn't change how tense and apprehensive he felt. Those little, anxious quips from earlier had escaped his lips before he even realized he was talking, but he had to admit they took some of the edge off.

It wasn't time for contemplation, but for action, he admitted to himself. Action was heading quickly towards him, too, and he didn't need Spider Sense to hear the last of the searchers frantically sprinting in his general direction. No doubt his improvised attack made some noticeable noise.

He'd have to face this one head-on. The realization made him reflexively gulp.

He could see the remaining thug, and that meant his antagonist could see Hachiman and his victims as well. "WHAT THE-?!"

There was only a single thought going through Hachiman's head as he charged full speed ahead. _'Don't let him fire his gun. The moment he does, they'll hear it upstairs.'_

Hachiman's foe raised a submachine gun in what the teen perceived like slow motion. Hachiman needed to delay him from firing, and he only had one way to achieve that. He jumped to his right and his feet made contact with the wall. Thanks to his clinging ability, he could keep sprinting towards his opponent.

The sight of the marvelous masked male, racing along a perfectly vertical surface, defying gravity, would give anyone pause. That gunman was no different. It made him slower by a few fractions of a second, and by the time he had trained his aim at his target, said target was already zipping through the air, lunging at him.

In midair, Hachiman yanked the submachine gun away from his enemy's grasp, twisted his body, and struck his unfortunate adversary with a mighty flying roundhouse, flooring him.

That took care of the grocer section. Only the last three hostage-takers on the upper floor remained.

He quietly trotted towards the escalator. His Spider Sense started to prickle slightly. Perhaps there was a sentry stationed atop the stairway? After all, they were the only way up to the first floor.

For a normal person, that is.

Hachiman headed past the cash registers and out the main entrance to the building, stepping out to the hauntingly deserted streets of Chuo Ward. He'd previously entered the building by prying open a roof access and making his way down the emergency staircase. Said staircase was blocked off with doorways on each level that would only open from the descending side with a push bar.

He scaled a sheer, tower-like structure, atop which a gigantic black sign displayed the superstore's logo in bold white letters. Clearing from the edification to the roof of the two-story building proper, he caught a glimpse of his sneakers before heading back inside. Descending one flight of stairs, he quickly scanned the second floor before concluding it was deserted. His exploration wasn't completely fruitless, however: he spotted nylon cable ties for sale and decided to pocket a pack, figuring they would be useful later.

The youth clung to the wall boxing in the descending escalator and crawled alongside it, staying close to the ceiling.

The subtle stinging of his Spider Sense meant they had to be close.

Taking care not to be seen, he spotted the sizable group of hostages huddled around what would usually be a relatively open space between hanging racks in the apparel section. They cowered before the leader of the marauders, who was pacing back and forth as another of the interlopers was stood nearby, hand resting on a combat shotgun resting over his shoulder. A few feet away, the last remaining invader pointed a carbine down the escalator, ready to mow down anybody who so much as attempted to ascend.

Hachiman analyzed the situation carefully: dividing and conquering had worked exceedingly well for him, but he wouldn't be able to rely on the same strategy as before. If he tried to lure them away, he figured the possibility of one of the thugs threatening to bargain with one of the hostages at gunpoint was highly likely, and Hachiman had no way to win if that came to pass. No, he had to strike fast and hard, not giving them a chance to process what was happening.

He formulated his plan and loathed what he knew with certainty: he was going to get shot at.

He slithered across the ceiling, towards the man guarding the escalator.

"Hey...what the hell are y'all slack-jawed for?" the thug calling the shots raised an eyebrow, perplexed at a sudden change of disposition in several of the previously cowering captives. More and more of their number transitioned from fear to astonishment, and the unsavory fellow finally decided to turn and witness the answer to his question himself.

He craned his neck just in time to see a masked figure drop from the ceiling.

Hachiman landed on his haunches in front of the stairway's sentry, forcing him to yelp undignified. The masked teen struck with a swift sweep, tumbling his adversary towards him. He relieved the stumbling combatant of his weapon, tossed him over his shoulder, and sent him rolling down the same escalators he'd been protecting a moment before.

The wall-crawler was where he wanted to be - with his back to the stairway, bullets wouldn't tear through hostages to reach him.

Tossing the carbine aside, Hachiman closed the distance between him and the shotgun-toting gunman in a flash. His opposition's finger was on already on the trigger, and left with no other options, the teen used his superhuman strength to wrestle the scattergun away, the weapon discharging during the struggle. The shotgun's barrel unloaded onto the ceiling, splashing pieces of plaster everywhere. Hachiman ignored the painful ringing in his ears and the terrified screams of those he was there to rescue, choosing instead to focus entirely on sliding his foot between the other man's legs before hooking it against their ankle. The movement forced his antagonist to topple backwards onto the ground. Weapon wrested free from his opponent's grasp, Hachiman smashed the shotgun stock into his fallen foe's visage.

His Spider Sense bellowed, and Hachiman sprung into a leaping somersault. A projectile whizzed past by him, grazing his shoulder. It was hot and painful and distressing but the boy had no time to spare a thought to that. He shifted his body to avoid another shot and came down on a powerful axe kick that relieved the last remaining threat of his semi-automatic handgun.

Instead of backing away, though, the thug's leader took a lunging swing at Hachiman. The blow struck at his temple, causing the teenager's skull to explode with aching agony that gave way to a dull throb. But Hachiman was undeterred. He would win this fight - he had to! Another strike crashed against the youth's chin, causing teeth to chatter and rattle, but he would not back down. Despite his body being rocked back from the last punch, Hachiman caught himself from losing ground, hopped a step ahead, and countered with a swinging right hook to the flank.

Hachiman's rival grunted, stumbled a little, and attacked with his own counterpunch. Hachiman weaved under the swooping arm and answered with an elbow strike under the chin. The powerful hit made the other fighter's trunk arch back. The teenager's hands shot out, bunching up the clothes under the lawbreaker's collar, and he lifted his captive as high as his arms would allow him.

"You want to keep going?!" Hachiman growled. "Want me to pull all the stops?! Cause I can hit harder - a **LOT** harder that this!"

"All right, all right! I yield! I yield!" the helpless wrongdoer flailed, panic starting to set in. "I get it! You can do the same crazy comic book crap as the boss-man! So let me go!"

Hachiman's eyes narrowed behind his googles. "Boss?" He tightened his grip. "Who's this boss of yours?!"

"C-c'mon now," the crook stuttered, cold sweat dripping the side of his face. "He's gotta be all over the news by now. W-why don't you turn on a TV or sumthin'?"

"I'm too busy dealing with punks like you," Hachiman snarled, suddenly yanking his quarry close, so close he could feel the terrified thug's agitated breathing against his balaclava. "Better answer before I decide to really deal with you."

" **Tsuchigumo**! It's the Tsuchigumo of Chiba! There, ya happy?!"

 _Tsuchigumo_? The _yokai_ monsters from folklore? Was it a nickname? "Who is this Tsuchigumo?!"

"Big time gunrunner, gave me n' the boys them toys and told a whole buncha others to raise hell all around town. Said to round up as many hostages as we could take, and to help us to their belongings if we wanted."

"For what purpose...?!"

"I don't know! Honest!"

Hachiman knew he wasn't lying, for his captive was far too distraught for falsehood. Deciding the thug would give him no further information, Hachiman let go with one of his hands, still holding his victim aloft with a single arm.

"What are you gonna do!? No! Don't-!"

Hachiman produced the pack of zip ties from his pocket and lobbed it in the direction of the hostages. "Tie him up while I keep holding him, please."

"O-oh," the wrongdoer's shoulders slumped in relief. "For a moment, I thought..."

"...I'm no killer," Hachiman finished the thought.

"Then what ARE you?!" the thug blurted out.

The one brave soul who decided to honor Hachiman's request, an office lady in her early thirties, spoke as she opened the pack of cable ties. "Um, isn't it obvious? He's _Spider-Man_."

"Thank you, Spider-Man!"

"I never thought you could ever be real!"

"I love you, Spider-Man! You're the best!"

Soon, he was surrounded by the previously terrified people. Eyes that had once been drowning in despair now sparkled with admiration, elation, and confidence.

He'd done it. It was because of him. Hikigaya Hachiman, who had never once in his life been saved by someone else, even if he had once desperately wanted to be, had in turn protected others from that misery he knew all too well. They no longer knew of desolation or abandonment, for he'd been there to help.

It felt good. It felt **so** good. For the first time in his life, triumph truly swelled in his heart.

The crowd, amidst their cheerful chatter, began to work on immobilizing their former captors and rounding up their weapons. Hachiman took the opportunity to check on his arm; his sleeve was torn and his skin had reddened, but it didn't seem as if he'd been cut by the projectile, let alone experienced serious injury.

He requested a group accompany him to secure the neutralized gunmen downstairs, and it didn't take long for them to be tied up as well. The initiative proved fruitful, as the downed wrongdoers had started to groggily come to.

Danger past and hostage-takers rounded up, it was time for Hachiman to leave. When he climbed the escalator to the first floor, the people that stayed behind surrounded him. A middle-aged man stepped forward, holding a bundle of brightly-colored cloth in his hands.

"Thank you so, so much for saving us," the man said. "There's not much we can do to show our appreciation, but...it's winter and you're dressed so light. We wanted you to have this."

Hachiman was presented with a zip-up hoodie - red, blue, black cobweb pattern, the symbol of a spider sitting on the middle of the chest. Of course that's what they'd go for. After all, to them, he was Spider-Man.

To accept the gift, Hachiman knew, would be to accept permanent change in his life. He was being offered a choice: he could disappear after his altruistic intervention and go back to his life as an ordinary high schooler, at least pretend to...or he could shoulder the burden of defending his ailing, weeping Chiba. Would he fight? Or would he flee?

 _'Save me someday.'_

Within him resounded those words, but it wasn't just Yukinoshita Yukino's voice uttering them now.

He also heard Yuigahama Yui, the third and last member of the Service Club. Isshiki Iroha, the foxy, manipulative, yet kindred Student Council president. Totsuka Saika, the captivatingly feminine yet bafflingly male tennis club captain. Zaimokuza Yoshiteru, the aspiring but lacking writer. His own sister, Hikigaya Komachi. His parents. His teacher, Hiratsuka Shizuka. That one rough but caring girl with the scrunchie he always forgot the name of. Tsurumi Rumi, the elementary schooler he'd attempted to assist in more than one occasion. Kakeru Tobe, the one classmate privy to his secret.

Voices he wouldn't have expected also resounded within. Hayama Hayato. Miura Yumiko. Ebina Hina. Orimoto Kaori. Shiromeguri Meguri. Even Yukinoshita Haruno.

Hikigaya Hachiman reached out and accepted the offering, embracing all the responsibility it entailed.

He decided to embrace the role thrust upon him.

"I'll ask the police to come and help," Hachiman said as he zipped the jacket up. "Stay safe."

"Go get 'em, Spidey!"

"You can do it, Spider-Man!"

"We believe in you!"

He made his way towards the roof one more time, retrieved his sneakers, slipped them back on, and once again ran, this time for the direction he'd first come from.

* * *

They were pinned.

The shooters were clearly untrained, as evidenced by their abysmal aim, but they had so much firepower at their disposal it didn't matter.

Echo tried to return fire, but he could only pop a round before hunkering down behind the squad car's engine block. He was armed with a New Nambu Model 60 revolver borrowed from the injured lawman taking cover against the rear wheel of the vehicle. The hurt officer's was far too busy applying pressure to the gaping wound in his leg to operate a firearm.

"Talk to me, kid!" Echo spoke into his microphone, firing a shot blind over the hood.

Tobe, a safer distance away, agitatedly examined the image displayed on the touchscreen for the drone control device Echo had entrusted him with. "It's the same as ever!" They don't seem like they'll run out of ammo anytime soon! What's more, there's a new SUV pulling up alongside them!"

"Damn it!" Echo cursed. "I don't know how much more of this we can take before we start losing people!"

"...Oh no. No no no **no**!" Tobe cried. "You guys have to get out of there, now! **Now**!"

Dread snaked its way through Echo's back. "Focus! What did you see?!"

"They...they're..." Tobe swallowed dry, "The sunroof! They're pulling out a turret from the sunroof!"

"...Oh." Echo said, dumbfounded. The crackling of sustained suppressive fire stopped, and then Echo heard a whirling, spinning noise. There was no way their vehicles would protect them against such an armament. So this was how it would end, huh? This was not how he'd pictured it would happen. He wasn't holding onto his MP5, he didn't have his body armor, and his usual comrades were nowhere to be found.

Ah, there were still so many things he wanted to do before he went...

" **HOLY-!** "

Tobe yelled, and the shredding hail of high-caliber bullets never came.

Despite his better judgment, Echo peered over the hood of the car. Other officers would also slowly be overcome by curiosity as well and followed suit, peeking warily from their shelters.

They'd behold the most unreal of sights. A rotary turret, projecting from a sunroof, split across its barrels. A manhole cover, embedded firmly past the grille of another SUV and into its engine, splitting the surrounding metal. A blur of blue and red, swiftly darting from one place to the next and striking just as quickly. Punching, kicking, leaping atop someone's shoulders, vaulting onto another foe and bringing them down with its momentum...rolling backwards to evade gunfire, pushing itself with its arms into a backflip, to then twisting in midair and landing with both of its feet square on the chest of another adversary...

That blur fought as if possessed by a demon of fury and lightning. Awe-struck, star-struck, the officers could do little more than gawk transfixed as the Spider-Man battled.

Spider-Man brawled, unleashing attacks with dozens upon dozens of openings any experienced combatant could identify and exploit; and yet, his blows were so overwhelmingly fast, none of his antagonists could capitalize.

He dodged a kick, grasped the leg close to him with both his arms, and tossed his attacker at a pair about to open fire at him. He sensed someone else taking aim at him, sprung into the air, landed behind this would-be shooter, and bashed against his back with his elbow. Some other combatant gave up on shooting and charged at him with a knife, hoping to run him through, but Spider-Man merely spun on his heel, avoiding the blade, and then caught the pouncing individual on the back of the head with a backhanded swing, downing him. The other man, the one whose back he'd elbowed, launched himself at Spider-Man and managed to lock his arms around the masked fighter's shoulders and armpits. The knife-wielder got up, grinned menacingly through a bloody nose, and thrust his steel implement towards the restrained amateur hero.

The rushing blade was instead caught between the soles of Spider-Man's shoes. The hooded vigilante threw his torso forward and then back, striking his captor with a mighty head-butt, no doubt breaking a couple of teeth. The grapple on him loosened, Spider-Man contorted his body, his feet wresting the dagger free from the grasp of his other adversary.

He landed on a crouch, rising immediately into an uppercut that sent the knife maniac reeling down, and followed up by turning into a high kick that crashed against the grappler's ear. Next, he vaulted and slid over the trunk of a sedan, clearing just in time to protect himself from gunfire behind the real wheel.

A single detonation rang out over the sustained crackles of assault weaponry, and the projectile assault stopped. The buzzing of his preternatural sense ceased.

"It's over, man," Tobe's digitized voice spoke into his earpiece, relieved. Hachiman had forgotten about that feature in his mask. "It's over, and it's all thanks to you."

Hachiman made his way out of his shelter, doing his best to pay no mind to the gazes fixed on his hooded figure. Several officers had moved in and had started cuffing the defeated gunmen, but for the most part, all attention was focused on him.

"Do you think it's him? The guy HQ warned us about?"

"No, it couldn't be. He just helped us. Has to be someone else."

"Yeah, I've had the displeasure of coming face to face with the Tsuchigumo before all this went down. This guy is definitely shorter."

 _'Tsuchigumo. So they already know_ ,' Hachiman thought.

His earpiece came alive again with the sound of Echo's voice. "You left us hanging for a wardrobe change, huh?"

"No. I ran into a hostage situation on the nearby Seiyu," Hachiman spoke into the microphone. "...I know it was stupid, but I intervened."

"And the hostages?"

"All safe," Hachiman answered. "Gave me this hoodie before I left. Can you make sure some policemen go down there, by the way? Christmas was a few days ago and all, but there's still a bunch of thugs gift-wrapped inside."

Echo chuckled despite himself. "I told you I liked guys like you. I think now you know why."

"Because we do all the heavy lifting for you?" Hachiman barbed.

"That too. What can I say, delegating can be the epitome of efficiency."

"Are you sure you're not just lazy?"

"...So, what will you do now, Peter Parker?" Echo abruptly changed the subject, which wasn't lost on Hachiman. He decided not to dwell on the swerve, nor to think about how he just referred to him by the name of the fictional Spider-Man's alter ego. It was time to get back on track. "What else? Nobody else could stop that Tsuchigumo person."

"So you found out about him?" Echo grinned. "Good job. There's hope for you yet."

"That's what my guidance counselor always tells me."

Echo snorted. "Okay, play along with me now."

Before Hachiman could ask what he meant, Echo came around from behind the vehicular barricade and approached him, arms raised in a welcoming gesture. "Thank you for helping us...Spider-Man, is it?"

"Uh..." Hachiman nodded once.

"The situation is extremely dire, Spider-Man. We need all the assistance we can get," Echo continued the charade. "Can we count on you?"

"I guess..." Hachiman mumbled.

"Put some conviction into it!" Echo chastised, his voice now barely a whisper.

Hachiman groaned, but complied: "Yes. I'm here to lend a hand."

"Louder!" Echo whispered again.

" **I'M HERE. TO LEND A HAND** ," Hachiman yelled, aggravated.

"Did you hear that?" Echo turned back toward the barricade, this time projecting his voice much louder. "Spider-Man's going to help us!"

The previously imperiled crowd of officers cheered and roared.

"Okay, that'll do," Echo murmured. "You got the boys in blue fired up."

"Uhh, you're welcome…?"

* * *

"...We are reporting live near Makuhari Cineplex," a female NHK reporter spoke into the camera televising her both locally and abroad. "Inside, a special police team is currently attempting to apprehend Kimura Keisuke, a local businessman believed to be the organizer behind the attacks occurring all throughout the city. A video that went viral on social media about an hour ago, far too graphic for television broadcast, depicted a fight between Kimura and police officers where the former displayed, for the lack of better description...superhuman agility and strength."

The reporter experienced a mixture of apprehension, disgust, and bewilderment at her own narration, and it showed in her face for a split second before she could regain her professional demeanor. Clearing her throat, she continued.

"Kimura has released a list of demands, including 100 billion yen in cash, as well as the publication of all national intelligence agency documents for the past twenty-five years. He is, by his own account..." that uncomfortable expression returned to her countenance, "...holding the entirety of Chiba City hostage."

She took a deep breath before continuing: "The mobilization of JSDF forces has been approved by government, officials describing this as the worst national crisis sinc-"

The lifeless body of a riot-geared cop defenestrated through the glass doors of the movie theater, slamming sickeningly onto the pavement, and forcing the reporter to yell in agitation. "Point the camera away! Away!"

The viewfinder, fleeing from the corpse, instead found Kimura Keisuke across the street, exiting the theater through the shattered door. He dragged another officer behind him like a rag doll, paying no mind to the glass stabbing itself into his captive. He stared directly at the camera crew with a twisted grin, sending chills down the spines of the physically present and television viewers alike.

The deafening and unmistakable sound of helicopter rotors gradually intensified, causing Tsuchigumo to look up and the cameraman to zoom in at its source. Materializing from behind a building, a police chopper turned to expose its flank to the Tsuchigumo. Two SAT officers were harnessed by the open door, one holding a machine gun and the other an assault rifle.

Tsuchigumo scoffed, released his victim, and broke into a sprint. The gunmen opened fire.

He zigzagged, leapt, shot a web at the door of a bus abandoned nearby, yanked, and tore it from the chassis. Spinning in the air, he swung it around and released, launching the door as a makeshift projectile.

It sheared the main rotors clean off.

The helicopter barreled down, spinning uncontrollably during its precipitous descent.

It headed straight for the news team.

The reporter screamed. The cameraman raised his arm in front of the camera in a futile attempt to defend himself.

It all happened so fast, the newsroom wouldn't get a chance to cut the live feed before the gruesome impact.

It wouldn't need to.

Somehow, both journalists were still alive, the airframe somehow held up above their heads. The cameraman, in a daze, aimed his camera lower, and lower...

Until it met the red emblem, a crimson circle with eight projections. A spider.

The photojournalist zoomed out, and realized it was a design emblazoned on the back of a person's jacket.

A person who, despite the impossibility of it all... caught a falling helicopter by the nose, preventing their grisly demise.

" **RRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!** "

The hooded figure, squatted under the astonishing load, hauled the vehicle so its landing skids touched the ground. With his incredible labor completed, the mysterious benefactor placed his hands on his thighs and began to pant violently. The occupants of the helicopter, lightly injured but mostly shaken and no worse for wear, filed out of what could've been a coffin of steel and fiberglass.

The journalists approached their savior, with the cameraman's tool of the trade was pointed directly at him. "You...you saved us."

The stoic figure nodded, once. "It's too dangerous here. You need to get to safety."

"W-wait! A-are you...are you really..." the woman stuttered, overtaken by awe. The hooded youth followed her gaze, fixed on the spider logo in his chest.

"Yeah."

Hikigaya Hachiman had been a cynical loner all his life, and as such, barely knew how to provide words of comfort and care. Yet, he was smart, and knew that right now, behind those camera lenses leveled at him, the world was surely watching. Even he knew the people of Chiba, the people of Japan, the people of the world, had need of such words.

So, he kept it simple.

"Yeah. I'll put a stop to this. I promise."

With that, he darted away, towards the danger, towards the chaos.

"...De, dear viewers," the reporter's spoke, still disconcerted. "That was...that was...I can't believe it. That was him. That was the real deal..."

The woman had been moved to tears. The cameraman, capturing her image, hadn't realized it, but he too was weeping.

Never had either been in such dangerous an assignment. Yet, never in their lives had either of them felt so reassured, so safe.

"That wasn't some...that wasn't some cruel, psychopathic _phony_! That's him! He became real! He became real because we needed him to be!" Excitement and passion overtook her, and any semblance of detached professionalism had been thrown to the wind. Now was not the time for such trivialities. For this moment was too monumental, too _important_ , for human emotion to find itself absent.

The world stood still.

This was one of those moments that changed humanity's history forever, and everyone viewing it throughout the world knew.

How many, across generations, around the globe, had once upon a time gazed upon that gallant hero, who refused to yield despite overwhelming odds, and dared them to dream impossible dreams...?!

 _And yet he, who should only belong in the realm of amazing fantasies,_

 _had become flesh and blood simply because he'd been '_ _ **needed**_ _'._

It was a declaration heard around the Earth. The rallying cry for the downtrodden, the suffering, the cowering, and the hopeless. A second wind for all inhabitants of this blue star.

"It's him! It's **SPIDER-MAN!** "

* * *

The entire planet celebrated.

The victorious shouts of the global community even awoke its sleeping denizens. Those who weren't were instead roused by their parents, or by phone calls from loved ones, or the like.

From a small laboratory atop an ancient television shop in Akihabara, where its residents huddled around a 21-inch monitor, to a restaurant in Nairobi, to an apartment in Rome, to the gigantic displays in Times Square, New York...people everywhere celebrated the resurgence of hope following the grim situation Chiba was subjected to.

Somewhere in California, a mustached elderly gentleman who'd stayed up late following the news coverage dropped his mug of coffee. His trembling hand slowly removed the tinted glasses he wore even indoors, a peculiar habit of his.

"Steve, I hope you're seeing this up there. Our ol' webslinger... he's still finding new ways to amaze."

* * *

To everyone's surprise, Spider-Man came running right back, carrying the limp, bleeding form of a police officer whose body had been mangled by glass – the one Tsuchigumo had been dragging earlier.

"This man needs immediate medical attention!" Spider-Man yelled. "Can you get it for him?!"

The operators who'd been rescued from the falling helicopter took their victimized comrade onto their shoulders. "We're on it!"

"Thanks!" With that, Spider-Man dashed away once more, this time to join the ongoing fight.

"Echo!" Spider-Man yelled into his mask. "Can you get the team engaging Tsuchigumo to pull out?! I don't want to get caught in the crossfire!"

"I'm on it!" The older man replied. As he got closer, Hachiman could hear the gunfire becoming more and more sporadic.

"Done!" Echo called out. "Just told them Spider-Man was coming in to cover them as they fell back!"

"Right!" Spider-Man said just as the combat was coming into view. The man known as Tsuchigumo, a head taller than him, still shirtless and with a peculiar belt around his waist, held onto the torn door of a police armored car, using it like a shield. Bullets plinked from the thick metal plate.

Spider-Man could see his tattoo - his back was facing him! Spider-Man dove into a tackle.

He instead crashed into the metal door-shield, crumpling to the ground.

 _'Right. Spider Sense. He has to have it too,'_ Hachiman processed as he groaned and picked himself up.

His own sense went wild. The door smashed against his side with such force it sent him flying through the air, landing on stone with a hard thud and a pained grunt.

Tsuchigumo loomed over his prone form, raising an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. "Think you're a match for me just because you put on some superhero sweatshirt? What are you, nuts?"

"No, not nuts."

Spider-Man scampered to his feet with a twirl, ripping the slab of metal from Tsuchigumo's grasp and coming back for a blow that caught his opponent flat-footed. It was then Tsuchigumo's turn to rocket through the air and land on hard ground.

"Came here to offer some community service. Heard the city had a garbage disposal problem?" Hachiman blabbered, secretly terrified and eagerly trying, and failing, to hide the frightened quiver in his voice.

Tsuchigumo kicked himself up to his feet. "That hurt, you mouthy bastard."

A strand shot from the yakuza's wrist, and Hachiman evaded its trajectory with a sidestep. His Spider Sense flared, and he realized he had not been the target in the first place. Tsuchigumo pulled the strand towards him, and Hachiman jump-flipped backwards, clearing a bicycle swooping past beneath him. His feet weren't planted on the ground for long, though - the armored door swung towards him, and he threw himself onto the ground, the metallic slab swooshing above his head.

Seeing he'd missed, Tsuchigumo swung the webbed door back towards his opponent. Seeking reprieve, Spider-Man sprung upwards, clinging atop the makeshift flail, and rode the door back to the ground.

"You're the first person to call me ' _mouthy_ ', you know? People usually say I don't talk much."

"Don't you ever shut up?!" Tsuchigumo pulled at the strand, rocketing the door and its unlikely rider towards him. Sensory alert warned Hachiman of impeding harm, and he propelled himself away his steel mount in the last possible second. As Hachiman flipped in the air above Tsuchigumo, the latter struck at the metal with his fist, causing the door to dent.

Hachiman, perched atop a lamppost, sighed in relief. That'd could've been his face... _whoa_!

He dropped down from his roost just in time to avoid the armored door from tearing him down alongside the post.

He wasn't fast enough, however, to avoid a gossamer strand from sticking to his shoulder.

"Oh shi-"

Next thing Hachiman knew, he was flying through the air, straight towards Tsuchigumo...

A clothesline struck him like a runaway train.

"Oof!" Hachiman groaned miserably and fell hard on his back. Before he could get a chance to ponder if he'd been paralyzed for life, he willed his hands to grasp at a shoe that was about to stomp his face.

The foot was pulled back, and beckoned by his Spider Sense, Hikigaya rolled to the side. The fancy leather loafer, scuffed from wear but otherwise intact, trampled the ground where Hachiman's head had been with such raw power it violently cracked the stone bricks underneath.

Hachiman, lying prone, blinked behind his goggles. "That, that's a quality shoe."

"Shut up already!"

Tsuchigumo, infuriated, went for a soccer kick to Hachiman's head.

"Ahh!" Hachiman instinctually raised his body with his arms. The kick whiffed thanks to Hachiman's sudden push-up, and the young man scrambled back to his feet. Figuring he had to attack eventually, Hachiman threw a haymaker of his own.

That proved to be a big mistake. Hachiman had never engaged in a brawl before today, but his adversary? His adversary had plenty of experience. His telegraphed moves would perhaps be too fast for a normal opponent, but Tsuchigumo was equally speedy, without even getting into the subject of their Spider Sense.

Hachiman's blow was easily parried with a swatting motion. The distance between the two combatants was short; far too short for the warning from Hachiman's inexplicable perception to make any difference.

A shovel hook plowed straight into Hachiman's gut, knocking the air out of him and making his world explode into hurt. His legs wobbled and he took to a knee, clutching his stomach. The aggravation of a different sensation, extraordinary in nature, loudly proclaimed he would not be receiving any mercy or reprieve. A front kick slammed against his jaw, lifting him off the ground, and sending him crashing against his back.

Groggy, punch-drunk, every nerve screaming in agony, Hachiman realized he would never win in a fair fight. He needed to even the odds somehow. Maybe something like a weapon...but before he could finish that thought, Tsuchigumo sailed through the air and came down on an elbow drop to the boy's solar plexus. Hachiman wailed.

"Heh. Still alive after that?" Tsuchigumo mocked, rising. "Stay down if you know what's good for you."

He...he couldn't stay down! He needed to get up! So he did, despite his protesting body and trembling legs.

"You're one stupid son of a bitch, you know that?"

Hachiman knew he only had one shot at this. He pulled his fist back . Tsuchigumo charged in with a killing blow...

Spider-Man's sense did not fail him. He weaved under Tsuchigumo's running punch, breaking into a sprint away from his torturer. The feint had been a risky gamble, but the only play left to him he could use to make some distance. He urgently ran for the fallen lamppost; perhaps it could be the weapon he needed!

Two strands of webbing shot past him. He didn't need Spider Sense to know he should duck. Skidding to a halt, Hachiman pulled himself low to the ground, a hand between his spread legs for balance. Tsuchigumo zoomed over, right past him, making landfall by the fallen pole.

Without a chance to think what action to take next, something splattered onto Hachiman's face. He couldn't see! Some sort of gunk covered his goggles. Had to be - _webs_! That was it!

Spider-Man ripped off his goggles, just in time to respond to his alerting impulse and hurdle over the lamppost swooshing horizontally towards him. Having cleared the hazard, Hachiman slapped a button near the jaw of the mask. "Echo! Where's your Yokai drone?!"

"Ask Tobe!" Echo answered urgently. The popping sound of gunfire leaking into his microphone informed Hachiman he wasn't the only one involved in a dire situation.

"I-it's near you, Spidey!" Tobe answered. "Like, super near!"

"Set it up on the bus stop behind this guy!" Hachiman ordered, dodging a horizontal swing from the lamppost. "Quickly!"

Hachiman evaded a few more blows, trying to close the distance between him and his foe. Then, Tobe spoke up. "It's ready!"

Hachiman got low to the ground and glared intently at Tsuchigumo. "On my mark, hit him with the drone's blast attack. Ready..."

"A-ah, w-wait-!"

"...Go!" Hachiman had no alternative but to set his plan in motion and brace for the consequences. It was now or never; this was the turning point. He dashed at Tsuchigumo with an animalistic roar. He launched himself into the air, stretching his leg out in a flying kick.

As expected, the lamppost was heading to intercept his attack.

" **NOW**!"

The airborne Hachiman was swatted away like a human baseball, but despite the excruciating pain, he smirked behind his mask.

If there was one thing Hikigaya Hachiman was good at, it was scheming. His plans didn't usually have to be formulated on the fly, but this wasn't the first time he had to do so, either. Him getting hurt during the execution? Something he was trying to avoid as of late, but this time it was required he relapsed into that habit.

He'd learned something very important during the short training session earlier, taught to him by something as innocuous as a tennis ball: it was difficult for their Spider Sense to warn them of a lesser threat when a greater menace was imminent.

A wave of concussive force struck Tsuchigumo from behind. _Hook, line, and sinker_!

Hachiman arched back and landed on his feet, ignoring the agony from his struck side. Immediately, he rushed towards the disoriented, thrashing Tsuchigumo.

He worked fast. With astounding dexterity, his hands undid the latches of the gunmetal bangles around Tsuchigumo's wrists, avoiding wild swings as he worked. The whole ordeal couldn't have taken more than a couple of seconds, and by the end, Hachiman had relieved his dizzied adversary of his web shooters.

Crouching under a haymaker, Hachiman added insult to the injury by ripping off the utility belt around Tsuchigumo's waist before scampering off.

" **Why you little-!** "

Hachiman jumped over the fence to a bicycle parking space and then dived behind a raised bed of shrubbery. He raised his sleeves and quickly began to don the appropriated devices. If he could never win in a fair fight, he could at least take one of Tsuchigumo's advantages away and make it his own.

No sooner had he mounted the second device on his right wrist did he hear the gate to the parking racks clattering against the ground. Tsuchigumo was no longer disoriented and had to be looking for him. How come nobody gave him a chance today to ease into things? Hopefully, the shooters would work just like in fiction. The presence of a steel band projecting from the bracelet, ending in a circular, wafer-thin switch sitting high on his palm just over the wrist, made the wishful assertion substantially likely.

Hachiman slung the stolen belt across his torso like a bandolier and trained his new devices at the top of the Souk Makuhari building looming overhead. He bent his ring and middle fingers inwards in both hands, depressing the switch on both gadgets.

Nothing happened.

"Huh?"

He tried again. Nothing. Distress welling within him and his enemy drawing closer and closer, Hachiman tried once more, hitting both switches twice in quick succession.

Finally the strands of webbing shot into the air, flying true, sticking to the side of the structure. The devices worked on a double tap!

The boy ceased applying pressure on the switches and the web lines were shorn at the nozzles. He quickly grabbed the strands, one in each hand, and tugged, his incredible strength rocketing his battered body into the sky. A rush of cold winter wind buffeted him he ascended.

For a moment, he forgot all about life-or-death peril and simply allowed himself to marvel. There were no words to describe the sensations bubbling within him, except perhaps pure, unadulterated wonder.

This exhilarating experience, though, was spoiled when he realized he was about to crash against the side of said edifice. "Aah!" He contorted himself sideways and fired a shorter web from his left wrist, held onto the glossy filament, and allowed himself to arc over the roof.

He realized he had to let go of his lifeline on the cusp of the swing, and when he did, his velocity caused him to hurtle uncontrollably ever ahead, on his way to just overshoot the building altogether.

He fired another web behind, blindly, and held on for dear life. It brought him to an abrupt, aerial halt which was then subjected to the third law of motion: for every action, an equal reaction. With a prolonged yell, he came down hard on top of a van, fiberglass deforming under the impact.

"This...is going to take some practice," Hachiman lamented, attempting to tune out the cacophonous, incensing blaring of the ruined automobile's alarm. He picked himself up, rubbing his poor back like an arthritic elder, and studied his surroundings. A large portion of the Makuhari Souk building was a parking garage, connected directly to the shops therein. It was, in essence, an indoor mall, except almost every establishment was either an eatery, a pub, and in one case, an internet café.

"Hey, Tobe..." Hachiman actioned his mask's push-to-talk toggle. "Where's the meathead?"

"Taking his shoes off...aaaaand climbing up the building."

He pondered for a moment whether he should make a stand right there, but quickly decided against it. A direct confrontation would no doubt continue to prove disastrous.

Inside, however, he might be able to set up an ambush, or find something that might give him a further edge. No doubt the shirtless maniac would be focused on him now and would search high and low for his prey. That was a far better alternative to Tsuchigumo departing and further toying with hapless officers.

"I'm going in," Hachiman declared, jogging down the parking ramp. "Let me know if anything changes outside."

* * *

The interior of the Souk Building had been abandoned in a hurry by its occupants, as half-eaten meals and overturned bottles could attest. Even a hardened loner like Hachiman experienced unease at the eeriness of the desolate vicinity.

Taking care to step over a fragmented bowl and not slip on its wasted broth and noodles, the wanderer exited a ramen restaurant, having concluded the premises would not provide a trump card in the battle to come. All he'd managed to scrounge were some packets of dried fish powder, now sitting within his pockets.

His intuition warned him the prowler was nearby. Moving silently, he climbed the stairs back up, to the fourth floor. He could hide in the internet café and, at the very least, take the time to figure out how to reload his web shooters ahead of his next encounter with Tsuchigumo.

Stepping into the first booth he found in the café, he closed the wooden door behind him and began to fiddle with the contraption mounted on his left.

He spotted a small, flat, and thin bar ending in a paddle-like shape. It projected from a circle-shaped section, sitting on the side away from his thumb. The paddle shape pointed vertically down towards his forearm, parallel to the nozzle. He pulled at the lever, turning it 180 degrees around a hinge, first towards his body and then ending at his palm. His action caused a small cylinder, which had already been jutting out from the bottom of the circular portion, to rotate and shift downwards, now loose.

 _'Has to be a system to keep the cartridges secure,'_ he concluded, retrieving the protruding capsule.

He opened a pouch on the bandolier he'd seized, fished for a fresh cylinder, and placed it in the new opening. It clicked into place, but was still not as far in as the previous cartridge had been. He lowered the lever once more, back to its original position, and the cartridge drilled itself inwards, properly affixed.

 _'There, loaded.'_

His attention then turned towards the round shape the cylinder bolted into. He gently turned at it and discovered an outer ring served as a dial, rotating with a satisfying _click_.

 _'These might be different settings. I can't experiment with these now, better turn it back.'_

He repeated the reloading procedure with the other web shooter, much faster this time, before taking a deep breath and opening the door to his booth.

To his surprise, another booth door slammed shut when he stepped out.

He walked over to the entrance to said cubicle. His Spider Sense was silent, so it was probably okay to knock. He rapped his knuckles against wood, asking: "Anybody in there?"

Hachiman's ears picked up a panicked gasp. That…complicated things.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

"G-go away!" a frightened, high-pitched voice reverberated.

"...Seriously, you can't stay. You need to get out."

"I-I'm fine here, thanks."

Hachiman sighed in annoyance. "You do realize the building was evacuated for a _reason_ , right? Why are you even still here?"

"I...I didn't notice something was happening, okay?!" the inhabitant of the enclosure admitted.

Hachiman pinched between his eyes. The person inside must've been so engrossed in whatever he'd been doing he missed a _complex-wide evacuation_. What a dubious talent to have.

"Come on, open up. I can get you to safety." Hachiman said. The ramen house he'd visited earlier had large walking windows leading to the outside. It'd be a simple matter to drop the guy at street level and web back up, hopefully with no painful mishaps this time.

"I said I'm good!"

"You open this door right now," Hachiman growled, "or I'll pry it open for you."

"I'd love to see you try!"

Hachiman groaned in aggravation. He didn't have time for this. So, as promised, he grabbed the handle and pulled, snapping the locking mechanism to the sliding door with ease.

"Aaah! You broke it! You really did!" a young boy, middle school freshman at most, squealed.

Hachiman rolled his eyes. "Now are you going to force me to restrain you, or will you come quietly?"

"I'll come, I'll come!" the boy said, anxiously stepping towards the super-strong teen, but the unwanted rescuer was no longer paying attention.

Hachiman's Spider Sense was going haywire.

A glass bottle zoomed through the air at breakneck speed. Spider reflexes kicking in, Hachiman pushed the boy back into the booth, the youngster stumbling backwards onto the leather office chair which in turn struck the desk, causing the monitor to rattle and the over-the-ear headphones provided by the café to slip from their perch. Hachiman arched his body backwards, the container streaking past his face and finally colliding with the wall at the end of the hallway. It loudly shattered into oh so many shards, dispersing with so much energy it resembled a fragmentation grenade. Hachiman rocked himself forwards and flipped into the booth, firing a web as he did, sliding the door shut with the strand and using it as an improvised blast shield.

"Whoa!" the boy exclaimed in awe. "You're like-"

The child's obvious observation would not be delivered, as the door slammed open once again. Imposing, Tsuchigumo stood in the threshold, reeking of alcohol.

Cornered, Hachiman would've made a sarcastic remark at the expense of the scent if he hadn't been was paralyzed by tension.

"Salesman told me I was the only one," Tsuchigumo bore a deadly glare at the Spider-Man. "The hell are you?"

"Sales...man? Who's that?" Hachiman repeated, questions emerging in his head. Questions that would immediately disappear as Tsuchigumo wrung his hands around the teenager's neck, slamming him against the desk, forcing wood to buckle, and sending the other occupant of the booth sprawling across the floor.

"I'm supposed to be the only one, **YOU HEAR ME?!** " the killer snarled, strangulating his victim. Hachiman, wheezing and hacking, dug into his pocket.

A brownish powder sprouted from Spider-Man's palm, thrusting itself into Tsuchigumo's eyes. His eyeballs stinging, Tsuchigumo was blinded, and he released his choking grasp on Spider-Man to instead cup his afflicted organs. Pulling his knees towards to his chest first, Spider-Man shot his legs out and struck Tsuchigumo's exposed torso with both of his feet. It sent the villain barreling backwards, through a door and into another booth.

Back on his feet, Spider-Man aimed his wrists at his foe, and began to quickly unload strand upon strand of web. It soon proved ineffective, with Tsuchigumo easily ripping through the sticky filament.

 _'Maybe I'm using these wrong,'_ he thought to himself, regretting he didn't have time to experiment with the web shooter's other settings.

Tsuchigumo charged like a bull. Hachiman skipped and grabbed onto the space between the ceiling and the doorframe, pulling himself up and allowing the burly attacker to smash face-first against his knee.

Despite the lucky shots Hachiman had gotten in, he knew brawling within such a confined space, with barely any space to maneuver would eventually favor the larger, more experienced combatant. Almost prophetically, his leg was wrenched downwards and he plummeted, making landfall next to a shocked middle schooler.

"What are you sticking around for?! GO _oooooo_ **OOOOOOOO** _oooo_...!" His vociferation wavered, for Tsuchigumo hurled him by the ankle, flinging him into the opposite booth. The child took the chance to make a break for it.

Battered, tired, and aching all over, Hachiman tried to pick himself up one more time, but instead it was his opponent who pulled him up by top of his hood. He punched him on the sternum, and then was punched again. Again. _And_ _Again_.

The blows weren't as strong as they could be; Hachiman could tell through the pain. He was being played with. Tsuchigumo was enjoying this.

The final blow struck him across the face. Hachiman's abused body wobbled backwards, his limbs going limp at his sides, his jaw open, wide and slack beneath his balaclava. He was completely stupefied.

Victorious, Tsuchigumo decided it was time to end this match once and for all, and reclaim his title as the sole human capable of such incredible feats. One final time, a hand found itself around Spider-Man's neck, but now it elevated him off the ground. In his wickedness, Tsuchigumo smirked, a twisted idea burning into him. His free hand reached for the top of Spider-Man's mask.

"You know what? I want to see your pathetic face before I beat it into a pulp."

He lifted the balaclava off his victim's face, revealing the battered, bruised, bloody face of one Hikigaya Hachiman.

Tsuchigumo's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "You... _you're._..!"

Right then, Hachiman's own eyelids snapped open. Every single cell in his body shrieked in alert and begged him to move. Swaying his body forward, he swung into a somersault kick, freeing himself from Tsuchigumo's hold. He then fixed his mask, dangling from the top of his head, with a downwards pull.

His opponent, however, offered no resistance.

"...You're just _a kid_..."

"Awful late to grow a conscience," Hachiman snarled, far too focused on the situation at hand to even notice a tinny voice speaking into his ear. "Do you have any idea what you're done?"

"What I've done? I've done what...wait...what have I been doing?! **What have I done**?!" Tsuchigumo grabbed his head in horror. "Oh no. No. No, _no_ , **no**. This is **not** what I wanted!"

Hachiman was completely lost. They may be the same physically, but the person in front of him acted nothing like the bloodthirsty psychopath he'd been struggling against.

"...pider-Man, Spider-Man! If you can hear me..." Tobe's voice, dripping with the utmost urgency, resonated in his ear.

Hachiman's Spider-Sense screeched louder than ever before.

The worst part was, he knew he wasn't the only one perceiving it, for Tsuchigumo shared a confounded glance with him and spoke.

"Do you... _feel that_?"

"JSDF gunships are...!" Tobe's voice was disregarded once more.

A swooshing sound in the distance, like those in a movie, infiltrated into his ears. Then, a booming like thunder reverberated, followed by more rumbles. The whole building shook.

Those were explosions.

That was all he could surmise before the other man pushed him away and the roof caved in on them.

* * *

Everything slowly came back into focus.

Weight was crushing the entirety of his being, both physically and emotionally.

His body was pinned under so much debris. He couldn't even see light outside. There was no way for him to break free. A haphazard wreckage of concrete and steel cruelly kept him immobilized, remnants of the overhead collapse.

Was he going to die?

For the second time in as many days, Hikigaya Hachiman wanted to cry. He was scared and cold and so alone, so _scared_ , more scared than he had ever been. _Scared scared scared scared scared SCARED_ **OH GOD, SCARED** -

A loud wail reached his ears. It wasn't his. It snapped him out of his own panic.

He recognized the voice belonging to a young boy, begging for his life. Desperate pleas from someone who knew the end would soon come, and could only helplessly refuse to accept it.

It was hopeless, wasn't it?

No. No, it wasn't hopeless. He refused to let it be. Hachiman wasn't just any high-school loner any more. Those supplications dripping with despair - he wouldn't let those be someone's last words, much less those of a child.

Mustering strength he didn't know he still had left, he began to lift the imprisoning wreckage off him. Yet, as his head pulsed violently from the strain, he focused on a single thought.

He wasn't just Hikigaya Hachiman. Not anymore.

He was _Spider-Man_ , and he'd carry the weight of the **whole world** if he had to.

So, he strained. He strained under the weight, past the hopelessness, past the despair. His legs, his arms, his entire musculature pushed beyond their superhuman limits and the imprisoning rubble above began to yield.

Even as his vision began to waver and his felt like he was about to split, he didn't give in.

He was back in the Service Club, in his precious place. Yuigahama Yui chattered spiritedly about something or the other, he couldn't really tell what. Yukinoshita Yukino poured tea into the cup the two had gifted him recently, emblazoned with the panda mascot of DestinyLand. Both smiled gently at him. It was the only place outside of home he truly felt welcome, and he would return to it. No matter what challenge he had to overcome to do so, he would **return** …!

With a roar that could split the very heavens, Hikigaya Hachiman stood once more.

He tossed the rubble aside, his entire body burning up from the effort. He craned his head and gasped at his handiwork: he'd heaved thick slabs of concrete alongside two cars and a van, and who knew what else. How had he done that?

He did it because it had to be done, he decided. Shaking his head, Hachiman scanned his surroundings and spotted an unconscious Tsuchigumo, head and right arm the only parts of him free from the wreckage. Blood trailed from his forehead, yet he still drew breath.

Hachiman elected to leave Tsuchigumo be for now. He had to focus on the boy. Following the cries of the young lad, Hachiman exited the café and saw him pinned under the remains of what had once been a wall, but was now one big, smoking hole.

Lifting the piece keeping the boy prisoner without much fanfare, Hachiman spoke: "Can you move?" The boy answered by rapidly scurrying away from his entrapment.

The explosions continued in the distance. Did they mean to level the entire building?

"Okay, now we **really** need to get out of here," Spider-Man said, and the boy nodded dumbly.

"Tobe, Echo, anyone! Get them to stop shooting!" Spider-Man barked, leaning out the man-sized breach only to witness a trio of Apache combat helicopters unloading their payloads throughout the damaged structure.

"Spidey! You're alive!" Tobe radioed, relief flooding him.

"Already tried!" It was now Echo speaking. "We can't get them to, the JSDF won't heed the police!"

"Just gr-" Spider Sense howling, Hachiman recognized he had to act immediately. He wrapped an arm around the child's midsection and spiraled out the opening to the outside. A large cylindrical object whizzed past them, a voracious fireball emerging following its impact.

Now in free fall with a boy howling for dear life, Hachiman slung a web at the undercarriage of a gunship, and firmly grasping the strand, swung back down to safety.

"Whoo! Go, Spider-Man!" Tobe celebrated, having spectated the daring escape through to the drone's camera feed.

Patting the boy on the shoulder, Hachiman turned back to the building. "Go on, kid. I still got some work to do."

"W-where are you going?" the boy asked, mystified by his rescuer.

"Me? I have a _supervillain_ to catch."

With that, Spider-Man let loose a web that stuck right above the fiery aperture they had just exited from. Disregarding the onslaught of rocket salvos and chain gun fire, the youth gracefully soared into the leaden sky, swooshing into the opening feet-first. Clearing over the flames, he fired another strand, heading further in while avoiding the inferno below.

He was back to where Tsuchigumo lay trapped, still unconscious. He began clearing the rubble, much easier this time now that he could do it piece by piece. Finally, he lifted a final piece of concrete, webbed the wounded yakuza, and liberated him with a tug. Hachiman cringed as the fallen man's form came into the light: the man's wounds were beyond gruesome, complete with open fractures at the left arm and both legs, limbs twisted and bent in all sorts of abnormal, disturbing angles.

Explosions continued to rock the building, and there was no way to know how much longer the edification could hold before it collapsed in its entirety. Placing his fainted former foe across his shoulders in a fireman's carry, Hachiman gazed at the space that had once been the ceiling, deciding it was his best exit route. He skipped onto a relatively flat part on the pile of debris he'd just been working on, sprung into the air and grabbed onto the edge of the aperture, pulling both himself and Tsuchigumo up.

No sooner had he hauled himself and the yakuza onto what remained of the scorched roof parking, did the building start to cave in under its own weight.

Uttering a startled curse, Hachiman fired a web at the roof's railing across from him. They traveled like streaks of light towards the fence, with Hachiman kicking at its topmost part and tumbling both him and Tsuchigumo away from the crumpling edifice. A web-line later and they were on the adjacent building's roof, hitting the ground running and sprinting away from the noxious cloud and forceful gale consequence of impromptu urban demolition.

Another leap, another web, and they were safely back on street level. Hachiman crouched and laid his injured foe on the pavement, taking care to be delicate with his wounds.

Tsuchigumo had awoken sometime during the getaway, droopy eyelids struggling to stay open.

"You...saved me. _Why_?" he weakly struggled to ask.

"Couldn't I ask you the same?" Spider-Man shot back. An uncomfortable silence settled between the two.

Hachiman had a lot of questions and this man may be the only one with answers - that much was true. However, had that really been the reason he'd braved the besieged building again? No. He had to be honest with himself.

Still close to the ground and casting his gaze away, he decided to answer truthfully, not only to Kimura Keisuke, but to Hikigaya Hachiman as well. "...Turns out...I can't stand to leave someone to die if I know I can do _something_ ," he muttered softly.

Tsuchigumo's bleary eyes watered. "You're a good kid...don't let anything change that. Don't repeat the same mistakes as me."

Whatever this moment the two shared was, it wouldn't last. It was interrupted by the shuffling of heavy tactical gear as they were surrounded by a group of armed men wearing navy blue uniforms and body armor, submachine guns trained at the duo.

A man broke through the perimeter, hands behind his back. He wasn't wearing the face mask or helmet the rest of the team did, exposing severe features and hair cropped short. "I'm Captain Kamiya Yuusuke with Chiba SAT. Step away from the perp, Spider-Man."

Hachiman clenched his fists, tensing. "Are you going to kill him?"

Kamiya shook his head. "No. We're police officers, and our job is to take him into custody. His punishment is for the courts to decide."

The youth relaxed his tightly clasped hand. "I would like to make a short statement. This man's personality changed completely during our encounter. It was like he was under the influence of something and not truly in control of his actions."

"You can tell us more down at the station," Kamiya said.

"I can't do that."

A dozen of index fingers left their disciplined positions at the side of their weapons to hover over triggers. "And why is that?" Kamiya asked.

"...There's still a city to save."

The faintest ghost of a grin snuck onto the corner of Kamiya's lips. He nodded. "Stand down, men." He gestured to the side with his chin. "Go on, help our boys. And Spider-Man? Good work."

With a web, he was gone from their sight and disappeared into the darkening sky.

"Hey, kid?" Echo radioed as he zipped through the air. "Come meet us inside the train station."

A couple of swings later, he reached the aforementioned rendezvous. Both Tobe and Echo waited for him, the former carrying the Yokai drone under his arm, the latter instead holding onto another pair of goggles.

"Here," Echo offered the accessory to him. "Your eyes are quite...distinctive. You're going to want to cover them up."

"Where to next?" Hachiman asked, donning the eyewear.

"We've got plenty of places around the city that are hot as hell. Looks like our work is cut out for us," Echo said.

Hachiman nodded. "Let's not keep them waiting."

With that, the unlikely trio stepped out into the arriving night.

* * *

"Man, you look like crap," Tobe said, a hint of mirth in his voice.

"I feel like I look," Hachiman, now back in his winter clothing, with face swollen, bloated and battered, replied.

The night had to eventually give way to daylight, and two exhausted students reclined onto the back seat of a dinged rental sedan. They'd worked tirelessly throughout the night, protecting civilians, aiding in search and efforts, and of course, rounding up bad guys. Weariness sneaked up on them after the adrenaline had worn off, and now if there was one thing both yearned for, it was the sweet embrace of sleep.

"This the place?" Echo asked, far more accustomed to all-nighters. They'd pulled over in front of the Hikigaya household. Hachiman nodded, and stepped out of the vehicle with Tobe in tow.

As soon as he stepped out of the vehicle, the door to the residence slammed open, and out came a blur known as Hikigaya Komachi. "Big Brotheeeeeeeeeeeeeer!"

The girl impacting against his bruised ribs caused him to release a pained grunt, but nonetheless Hachiman grinned and stroked a hand on the back of his kid sister's head. "I'm home, Komachi."

"Where were you?! Why do you look like that?!" Komachi desolately sobbed into his shirt, wetness pooling onto his chest. By now, his parents had approached the car too, and Echo took the opportunity to step out himself. "Hello. I'm Masaru Enatsu with the Chiba Police Department," he addressed the two adults. "Hachiman volunteered to help public services during search and rescue efforts. Your son and his classmate are, undoubtedly, heroes."

"He...ro?" Komachi tore herself from her brother's chest and accusingly glared upwards at him. "That doesn't sound like my trashy big brother at all. What were you really after?" Her eyes narrowed. "Pictures of Spider-Man?"

Hachiman chuckled. "Come on. You know I wouldn't endanger my self-preservation over something like that. It just sort of happened." He stroked his sister's hair a little more. That much was true - Hikigaya Hachiman would never willingly dive into danger.

But Spider-Man? That was an entirely different story.

* * *

 ** _Issue #1 - Certainly, Splendid Fantasy Would Once More Birth a Symbol_**

* * *

In a darkened room lit only by the glare from dozens of monitors, a man in a well-tailored white suit fiddled absentmindedly with a butterfly knife, unconcerned with any dangers the flickering blade may pose, as he processed visual information from all throughout Chiba City behind ever-present sunglasses.

He allowed his cheek to rest on his unoccupied fist, grinning viciously.

"Everything is going according to plan," uttered Salesman to nobody but himself.

He'd singlehandedly created a profitable new market, and soon, business would be booming.

* * *

 **[THE LETTERS COLUMN!]**

* * *

 **Face front, true believers! Thank you for reading the first issue of "The Splendid Spider-Man"! This section will be dedicated to answering your questions in the future, just like Smilin' Stan himself used to in the days of yore! Of course, this being the premier issue, there are no questions to answer yet…so how about a little background?**

 **There is no shortage of stories where Hikigaya Hachiman becomes a superhero. Heck, there's already two stories I can tell where he's to become the world's favorite webslinger, aside from this one. That's without counting all the jokes about him being Gotham City's eternal protector. By the by, I highly recommend the long-running epic where he becomes inspired by the Dark Knight himself into a crusade against crime. It was even referenced in this ish – with that said, that type of spider works perfectly for our story, for its ilk is known for striking swiftly, moving deftly, and finally, not making use of webs once they reach adulthood! Of course Hachiman would need mechanical web shooters!**

 **Back to our teenaged hero, I was mentioning the running joke of equating Hachiman to the Caped Crusader. While these comparisons are on point, Hachiman also reminds me of how Peter Parker used to be at the start of the Lee-Ditko run all the way back in Amazing Fantasy #15 – a troubled, brilliant, outcast youth with a chip on his shoulder. Then, there's his actions throughout his series. It got me thinking – "without a doubt, this bitter teenager has the right stuff to be a superhero."**

 **It was then that it hit me that all the stories dealing with Hachiman taking onto the role of costumed adventurer, at least that I know of, have origin stories that play out earlier than his series; that is to say, his story diverges** ** _before_** **the source material. I wanted instead to have a story where the divergence occurs** ** _during_** **his series, carrying with it all the story and character development up to that point.**

 **Oh, yes; there's one rather prominent guest star in this issue, is there not? What can I say? The world is a vast place, and a fledgling adventurer like Hachiman is going to need all the help he can get!**

 **One very important bit of special thanks before I go – the cover art has been provided by the ever-talented glorycolors on twitter! Please make sure to check her gorgeous art!**

 **That's it for this month's issue – yes, hopefully, I can deliver a new issue monthly. Here's hoping to no schedule slips!**

 **Make sure to write in, true believers!**

 **…** **Ah, I've just realized I should have a catchphrase to sign out on. Sadly, 'Excelsior!' is already taken, so I'll have to go back to the drawing board.**

 **That's it for now! See you next month (fingers crossed)!**

* * *

 **{UPDATE 11/12/2018}**

 **I never would've imagined that just a scant few hours after uploading this, we'd come to learn that our world lost one of its greatest creative minds.**

 **I considered removing his cameo in the story, but I want to honor him, and I want to honor Steve Ditko as well.**

 **Life is such a fleeting thing. I'm just glad his came into the world to change ours forever.**

 **Rest in Peace, Stan Lee. You and the rest of the Bullpen made the world a little more marvelous.**


	2. Mulling Over

_There has to be such a thing as being drunk with power. The only conclusion I can draw is that's what I experienced._

 _For the first time in recorded history, a human being displays superpowers, and that person just happens to be me. Swept up in all the immediate happenings and maybe feeling all my middle school cosplay fantasies validated, I rushed headfirst into mortal peril._

 _Loners are delicate creatures. We are not built for excitement, and being in the spotlight makes us shrivel, unable to function. Now, the media blitz focusing on my adopted alter ego makes me want to curl up and die._

 _The more I dwell on it, the more I want to slap myself and shout "what were you thinking?!". Spider-Me would have to answer "I wasn't!" and I'd still be left to deal with the fallout. Seriously, past me, I expected these shenanigans from middle school Hachiman, not from you._

On his way up to the roof, Hikigaya Hachiman passed by a group of first year girls heading towards the opposite direction. Red web-patterned pins adorned their lapels, and when he caught a glimpse, the observant teen bit the inside of his cheek.

 _This is exactly what I'm referring to._

 _Suppose a popular superhero suddenly became real in your city. How do you think the inhabitants would react?_

 _Being the hot topic on everyone's lips is jarring; being adored is more unnatural than clinging to walls. Can you imagine if people knew who Spider-Man was? "Ugh, of course that creep would be a spider. Gross." They'd look on in disgust and equate me to some lowly insect. Hey, arachnids might be creepy crawlies, but they're not bugs! Apologize to spiders everywhere!_

 _Granted, my own hatred of insects would've caused me to make the same mistake in the past. Sorry, spider-bros. That was before I became part of your numbers. You're all right._

 _Bottom line is, the Spider-Man of Chiba is already being idealized, almost deified. "Oh, he leapt out of the comic book and defeated Tsuchigumo!" No, I got my ass kicked really, really hard! I got lucky he snapped out of...whatever crazy high he'd been on. Otherwise, I'd be deader than dead. How's that for heroic?_

 _Then there's the influx of tourists visiting Chiba, both from other parts of Japan and abroad, many hoping to catch a glimpse of Spider-Man swinging overhead. Too bad I'm not planning on making any more public appearances. Regardless, please enjoy Chiba. Cut Chiba some slack, too; it's still working on rebuilding._

He stepped out to the roof, a cool breeze biting at his exposed skin. The temperature wasn't unbearable, but it was definitely chilly and most would rather stay indoors in this weather.

Adjusting his scarf a little, he peeked both ways in search of any other anomalous creatures that'd prefer to have lunch out in the cold. Coast clear, he jumped backwards over the tall stairway bulkhead, then rested his back against the gray dome-like structure protruding from the top.

 _Of course, superpowers do have their perks. For example, giving me access to this new potential lunch spot. I can't think of another place this private in school grounds._

As he unwrapped a yakisoba bread, the door underneath swung open with a metallic creak. "Hey, Hach, you here?"

… _Oh, great. I just had to jinx it._

In the shadow of the bulkhead stood Kakeru Tobe, grinning upwards at the other youth, unseen from his vantage. "Come on, dude, I know you're up there."

"No, I'm not."

Tobe grinned wider. "Mind to help your buddy up there?"

"…I do mind," Hachiman answered dismissively, taking a bite of his noodle sandwich.

Tobe's shoulders slumped somewhat. "Y'know, if you're gonna blow me off, you gotta at least say 'I'm not your buddy, pal!' or somethin'!"

"What are you even rambling on about?" Hachiman rolled his eyes before shifting his body to peer at the other boy beneath. "Even if I wanted to pull you up," he raised his arms and presented his sleeves, "no web shooters."

"Can't you come down and take me up?"

Hachiman glared. "No."

"Why not?"

Hachiman brought a palm to his face.

 _Of all the classmates I could've been stuck with during my origin story, why did it have to be Tobe? Seriously, who even_ _ **cares**_ _about Tobe?_

"Because," he said through gritted teeth, "I could be seen. In case you haven't noticed, I'm sticking to blind spots."

"Aw, man, I suppose you have a point. Then let's have lunch elsewhere!"

"I refuse."

Tobe deflated. "Why not?"

"If people see us eating together, they'll know something is up."

 _Actually, I just want you to leave me alone, but nonetheless what I said is true. It's been little over a week since all that insanity unfolded. The timing would invite scrutiny, and scrutiny is no good. As I stated before, loners are delicate creatures._

Tobe sighed. "I suppose that's true. After school, then?"

Hachiman shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

"Oh! There's one thing. Here, catch!" Tobe produced a thick tome from a backpack slung over his shoulder, lobbing it upwards at the other boy with surprising accuracy despite its heft. The perched youth snatched the airborne book and studied its cover.

 _"Spider-Man: Great Power"? ...Seems to be a collection of his earliest comics. Come to think of it, hasn't this sort of stuff been selling really well lately? They said on the news that publishers worldwide have been scrambling to reprint and translate Spider-Man stories after my escapade the other day. They can't seem to keep up with demand, either. Hey, Marvel, where's my royalty check? Or should I just be happy you don't send me a cease-and-desist?_

"Why are you giving me this?"

"There's no instruction manual to being Spider-Man, right? This is as close as you get to that."

"You want me to study comic books," Hachiman deadpanned, "as reference?"

"Pretty smart, right?" Tobe rubbed under his nose with his index finger, self-assuredness evident on his features.

"...Congratulations. Your brilliance has shocked me to the point I have nothing to say."

"Aw, shucks!" Tobe missed the biting sarcasm entirely and sheepishly scratched behind his head. "Yeah, I know it's a little silly, but maybe we'll learn a thing or two!"

"I'm not planning on playing the superhero ever again, though."

"You keep sayin' that," Tobe grinned, "but I'll get through to you eventually!"

 _Such is my unfortunate relationship with Kakeru Tobe. Tobe, Tobe, Tobecchi, life isn't a comic, cartoon, or movie. Heroics are an easy way to an early grave. Spare me your "guy in the chair" aspirations, as you call them. I suppose I can borrow this for later, though; the light novel I've been reading is rather lackluster._

"Thanks, I guess. Now get back to your usual group before they come looking for you."

Tobe's expression instantly took a turn for the disheartening, and he shuffled nervously in place. "That's...not going to happen."

 _Ah, that's right. That Yamato guy hasn't come back to school. Hiratsuka told us he was fine, but her expression when announcing to the class he'd be gone for some time...something must've happened, and it's been looming over their little clique ever since. They're unsure how to deal with the situation, and pretending nothing is wrong is clearly taking a toll on them._

Hachiman released a deep breath. "I'll be there after Club. No promises about what happens next, but I'll be there."

Tobe perked up a little. "That's all I'm askin', Hach. See ya."

With that, Tobe went back down the stairs. Hachiman took to seating once more, intent on finishing his meal.

 _Tobe's a good guy, if annoying, but he just doesn't understand. How could he? He wasn't the one that had the tar beat out of him. He wasn't crushed by wreckage, or shot at by helicopters...these abilities don't make me immortal._

His right hand, still grasping the half-eaten yakisoba bread, began to tremble. With his other hand, he gripped his wrist, staying the shakes. He took a deep breath, and then a soft sigh escaped him.

 _That's why I must've been drunk. The terror of death was always there, but it was only in hindsight I truly realized how close I was to meeting my end. I don't want that._

 _I don't want any more_ _ **nightmares**_ _._

* * *

He waited for Yuigahama on the usual spot; the nearest corner by their classroom in the direction of the clubroom. She chastised him again for not waiting for her, despite him clearly doing so, and he'd receive a halfhearted bash from her, using her school bag as a weapon. He thought how that had once been the closest he'd ever been to receiving a proper blow from another individual, before diverting his mind elsewhere.

He didn't want to remember the pain of being struck again and again in the chest.

"So, Yuigahama. About Yamato," Hachiman begun, and the girl sadly shook her head, light orange-brown locks swaying with the motion.

"We haven't been able to get a hold of him...What could've happened...?" she gazed at nothing in particular, forlorn. Hachiman pressed his lips together, studying her. She still looked like Yuigahama Yui, her hair tied up in the usual side bun, her coral pupils gleaming, her uniform fashionably unkempt. Yet, her ever-present smile was not there, and her step dragged as if she was carrying an unseen load.

"Hiratsuka said he was alright, though..." Hachiman trailed off, and Yui nodded absentmindedly. With the door to the Service Club in front of both, there was no reason to continue the conversation. He knocked twice and opened the entryway with a lazy tug.

"Yahallo, Yukinon!" Yui delivered an energetic greeting, albeit forced.

"Yo," Hachiman followed up with his usual salutation, closing the entrance behind him.

"Yuigahama, Hikigaya. Hello," Yukinoshita Yukino welcomed them with a small, gentle grin. Jet black tresses arched past her back as she leaned forward and placed a translation of The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka on the table next to her. Two narrow strands of crimson fabric jutted out from between the pages of the novel, part of a bookmark, matching in color the pair of thin ribbons decorating her shimmering hair just over the shoulders. Her pale blue eyes tracked the new arrivals, who each settled on their own chairs. Her two schoolmates seated, she presented each with a cup of tea.

Hachiman took a moment to gaze at the gentle billows coming from his hot drink. His finger traced the silhouette of Pan-san decorating his cup, unconsciously curling his lips upwards.

"Ah, Hikki..."

"That's an uncharacteristically serene expression for you, Hikigaya," Yukino uttered.

"Hikki, is there something on your mind?" Yui ended up asking.

"Just...thinking. It's nothing important."

 _I don't want to say it. I don't want to say I'm glad to be alive, and that I've learned to treasure these quiet moments with you more than ever. I don't want to say it was you I thought of when I was about to die. I don't want you to worry for me. I don't want you to think about me getting hurt. That's why...I can't tell you._

"Hikigaya, could it be about the Siege of Chiba?" Yukino asked past a sad smile. "It's all right. We're all still reeling, and learning to cope."

"...Yeah. How despite all what happened, we still managed to return to our daily lives."

Yukino nodded in understanding. "...The damage to the city, not to mention the casualties...it's not the thing you'd imagine could ever happen in Japan, much less Chiba. Despite all this, the citizenry is generally in high spirits. It's rather bittersweet."

"Um, it's because of Spider-Man, isn't it?" Yuigahama interjected shyly.

"…To think such a person could exist..." Yukino commented pensively. "You could argue people feel reassured, knowing he's out there."

Hachiman tensed a hand under the table.

"Do you feel that way too, Yukinon?" Yui asked, cocking her head.

Yukino crossed her arms. "It would be unreasonable to place so many expectations on a single individual, much less one that we know next to nothing about. Even so, it is indeed comforting to know there might be someone we can rely on should another terrible incident unfold."

"What about you, Hikki?" Yui craned her head at Hachiman. "What do you think of Spider-Man?"

Hachiman stared down at his reflection on the surface of the drink.

"I don't know."

He took a sip of tea and set the cup back down.

"Imagine having to risk your life simply because you ended up with abilities you might have not even wished for. Let's assume for a moment that's how it played out. Could anybody really fault you if you decided not to get involved?"

"If he's not part of law enforcement, allowing the professionals to handle the issue would actually be what's expected," Yukino stated.

"Bu-but," Yui began, "If he hadn't intervened, many of those officers wouldn't be alive today, would they?"

"It wasn't his responsibility," Hachiman said, and then raised his index finger towards Yui when she looked just about ready to interrupt. "I'm pretty sure you're about to quote a certain phrase right now, but I'm afraid it's not so simple. What motivation could he truly have? Humans act when there's something to be gained; that's our nature. How long do you believe someone could continue to put their lives on the line for no compensation?"

"Hikigaya, do you remember the definition for 'volunteering' I shared with you, back when you joined the club?" Yukinoshita asked.

"Something about a duty those who 'have' hold towards 'have-nots'?" Hachiman recalled with some effort.

"That'll do. Have you considered Spider-Man does not share your warped worldview?"

 _I would be very worried about my sanity if that were the case._

"Perhaps he's simply volunteering his fantastic abilities for the good of others, or possibly they make him feel duty-bound," Yukino finished.

"That's just another way of saying, 'With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility'!" Yuigahama protested.

 _...She actually went ahead and said it..._ Hachiman groaned inwardly.

"He could just as well be a thrill-seeker, or trying to play out childhood fantasies, or maybe he's firmly an idealist. There is no way to tell, for we know next to nothing about him. Perhaps we'll learn more as he makes further public appearances."

Hachiman shook his head softly, gaze still firmly fixed on his reflection. "Would you blame him if he didn't? If he was never seen again?"

"I couldn't," Yukinoshita admitted immediately. "Asking an individual with no obligation to constantly expose themselves to danger is not something that could be done in good faith. If I were in his situation, I don't know if I could act as bravely as he already has."

"Bravery? Or recklessness?" Hachiman countered.

"I'm aware such actions are inconceivable to someone as rotten as you," Yukino sniped, a faintly cheeky grin on her lips, "but they're admirable to most." Hachiman snorted and curled the edge of his mouth up a little more.

"Anyways, Yukinon," Yui interjected, "if you had powers, what would you do with them? There's hardly anything I could think of, other than becoming a superhero..."

Yukinoshita cupped her chin between her fingers. "I wouldn't want to be forced into a career in law enforcement...and I wouldn't want to become a vigilante, either. I'd probably keep it a secret and move on with my life."

"Really? I don't think I could pretend things were normal. What about you, Hikki?"

 _That hits a bit too close to home, Yuigahama._

"...Show biz, perhaps?" Hachiman shrugged.

"Eh? Like in movies, Hikki?" Yui's eyes widened with disbelief. "That's the last thing I'd imagine you working in!"

"I could make a lot of money as the world's greatest stuntman," Hachiman said, setting his now-empty cup aside. "Then it'd be easy to retire into the life of a house-husband."

Yui sighed. "There you go again..."

Hachiman shifted in his seat and dug into his bag, producing the thick tome Tobe had tossed him earlier.

Yui tilted her head in puzzlement, eyes fixed on the book's cover. "Um, Hikki? ...Didn't you just say you didn't know what to make of Spider-Man?"

"Doesn't mean I'm not _interested_ ," Hachiman said as he flipped the pages and begun reading. Soon after, silence settled in the clubroom, betrayed only by the clacking of keys under Yukino's fingers. She gazed at her laptop wearing a pair of yellow-tinted glasses that blocked blue light; a recent birthday present from Hachiman himself.

Eventually, Yui placed her smartphone down and scooted her chair next to Hachiman's. Leaning closer, she peered over his shoulder. "Hey, is it good?" she asked.

"It's educational," Hachiman answered.

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, show business might not be the best idea for a Spider-Man," he pointed at one of the panels on the page. "Look, his secret identity keeps him from cashing in his checks. I might have to reconsider my answer."

"You're really putting a lot of thought into this, huh..." Yui said, leaning a bit closer still.

They stayed like that for a couple more minutes, the redhead looming over his shoulder all the while. Made somewhat uncomfortable by the borderline invasion of his personal space for an extended period, Hachiman placed his reading material on the table and stood up from his seat. "I'll be right back," he mumbled as he made his way towards the door. Sliding it open, he came face to face with an unexpected obstacle in the form of one Hayama Hayato.

"Ah," the blond youth on the other side of the threshold seemed startled, frowning for a blink before switching to an unreadable expression.

Hachiman's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" he uttered, not exactly polite, not altogether hostile.

Hayama shook his head and broke into one of his winning (fake) smiles. "...It's nothing. I was just passing by."

Hachiman wouldn't buy that for a second, but didn't really care for what he wanted or his reason for making up excuses. Complicated was his relationship to Hayama Hayato, the popular youth so irreconcilably different from himself in the surface, yet so similar past the mask of social graces.

"Excuse me, then," Hachiman said, stepping out and walking towards the bathroom. He could feel Hayama's gaze lingering on his back, before the other male went his own way down the opposite direction.

* * *

"Yes, I'm aware Six has to know I'm involved. How couldn't she?" Echo spoke into his cell phone, spinning a precision screwdriver around his right thumb as he did. "She has to know I've been calling in favors with the rest of the team, too. Listen, you let me handle the boss. I'll talk to her later. For now, I want to make sure the kid has the tools he needs if, _when_ he goes out next."

He stared down at the desk he'd appropriated for most of his mechanical work. The owner of his temporary residence would probably not be too happy to know what he'd been doing within the confines of the rental apartment, but he'd been careful enough to at least protect the wood with a large sheet of styrofoam covered by a thick canvas tarp. Last thing he would want is having to pay for damaged furniture; his bank account had already been pummeled badly enough.

He listened to the woman on the other end of the line while he studied the circuits lining one of the lenses he'd been working on. There was some wire soldering in the near future.

"I know he will. He's a good kid, he just doesn't know it yet."

He chuckled at her response. Of course he wouldn't be working this hard if he wasn't convinced it would prove fruitful. Money was one thing, but his precious vacation time? Now _that_ was worth its weight in gold.

Besides, the child in him was rather excited at the prospect helping the world's first super-powered hero get started. _Spider-Man_ , no less! He'd been a fan of the Japanese live-action series as a little boy.

"Anyways, how's the Protector coming along? ...It's just missing that? Whoa, those two sure work fast. Can't wait to see some photos. So I guess all that's missing is for me to finish up the Eyes and Chelicerae, check if graphene does the trick, and we're done. Well, aside from the chemical analysis of whatever the web cartridges are filled with."

He eyed a cylindrical container, about an inch and a half in length and a little over a quarter inch wide. He wasn't a chemist, and so his attempt at replicating web fluid had been...mostly misguided.

A notification ding rang over his friend's voice. The temporary cameras he'd discretely set up must've detected movement. "That has to be them. I'll call you back, Grace. Later." He terminated the call and quickly stowed away the components for his little side project littering the desk. He wanted to keep it a surprise for now.

Halfway through picking up pieces and parts, the doorbell predictably rang. "Coming!" he yelled at the door while he finished storing the last few items in a box he quickly stowed in a closet, behind a futon. Echo shuffled towards the entrance, turning the handle downwards and pulling the door inwards. Outside, sure enough, were Hikigaya Hachiman and Kakeru Tobe.

"Hey!" Tobe saluted, grinning excitedly.

"Yo," Hachiman followed, with nowhere near the same level of enthusiasm.

The two boys stepped into the one-room apartment, which was thankfully spacious enough to accommodate all three of them without any issue. Wordlessly, Echo beelined back to the desk, crouched, and retrieved a pair of sport shoes that had been lying underneath it.

"Here, try these on," Echo handed the footwear to Hachiman, who stared at the articles puzzled.

"...What's this?" the young man asked.

"I want to test a theory. These might let you stick to surfaces," Echo said.

Hachiman shrugged and took the sneakers, deciding to comply with the policeman's implied request. He slid them onto his feet and tied the laces tight.

"Okay, then," he said, and then he sprung. His body clung perpendicular to the ceiling, all four of his extremities making contact with the surface. He inhaled deeply before pulling one hand away, then the next. He didn't fall.

"Huh."

He placed his heels on the roof and stretched erect. It was working; he was standing upside-down, defying gravity as easily as breathing.

"What are these?" Hachiman asked, curiosity piqued.

"Graphene soles. The future of footwear, y'know. Extremely durable, resistant, and most importantly, its molecules are arranged like a hexagonal lattice. I theorize your clinging ability might be related to van der Waals forces or something similar, and hoped the properties of graphene would not impede your power."

"…You lost me," Hachiman admitted as he flipped back onto the floor, "but alright."

This visit hadn't been a waste, even if he had no intentions of playing the role of Spider-Man again. If anything, he now understood his capabilities a little better - and that could help him conceal them from here on out.

"Hey, I'm a roboticist, not a physicist or a biologist. For all I know, I just spouted a bunch of bad science and we just got lucky graphene works. Keep those, by the way. Graphene shoes aren't readily available in the marketplace and I had to call in some favors to get these."

"Uh, thanks?" Hachiman said. He'd never been too picky when it came to footwear, and you couldn't beat free.

"So Spidey's got some running shoes," Tobe added, clapping his hands together. "What about extra web fluid?"

"Err, about that..." Echo scratched at his cheek. "No luck with replicating the formula. Hey, don't look at me like that, Hachiman - I told you I'm a roboticist. But!" he wagged his index finger, ambling towards his desk. "I ended up making something pretty interesting by accident."

He picked up a red cartridge the corner of the table. "Since I couldn't replicate the formula from scratch, I tried to instead take some small samples and add different compounds, see if that gave me some clue as to how to advance. Bad news is, it didn't, but good news is I ended up developing this by accident instead. It contains a concoction that after passing through the mechanisms of your web shooter, ends up expanding into this flame-retardant, foamy goop."

"So, similar to a fire extinguisher?" Tobe asked.

"There's a vital difference, though. You know how extinguishers are meant for specific types of fires? Like how water extinguishers are good for combustible materials like wood, and carbon dioxide extinguishers work on flammable liquids and electronic equipment?"

"Yeah, I'm aware," Hachiman said. Tobe nodded indecisively, maybe just wanting to pretend he already knew that.

"I've been doing some controlled experiments," Echo continued, "and this works to put out any type I pit it against."

"That's nice," Hachiman said, not particularly interested.

Tobe grinned, sensing Hachiman's indifference, and nudged the other high schooler with his elbow. "What you really want more web fluid, huh? You really enjoyed web-swinging, didn't you?"

Hachiman answered nothing, even if Tobe was correct. Despite his misgivings regarding the whole Spider-Man affair, it had been the aspect he'd enjoyed the most. The thrill building up in his chest as he flew free between buildings, letting go of his lifeline, creating another...no other experience could match it. Yet, if he were to indulge, that would mean being spotted in public. He knew he should, no, _must_ push such desires out, no matter how tempting they may be.

"Hey, this could be a real game changer. This little cartridge holds five whole shots! With a larger cartridge alongside a simpler implementation of the moving parts within your web shooter, imagine the utility it could have for firefighters and rescue personnel!"

Hachiman flashed a sly, sharp sneer. "...You're going to try and make a lot of money out of patenting this, aren't you?"

"Oh, you bet."

* * *

As more days went by, Chiba's normalcy continued to return, little by little. Its wounds slowly, but surely, had begun to heal, but any laceration deep enough must leave a scar.

Hachiman wondered where his had gone.

His bruises and wounds had left no trace of ever being present.

He inspected his bare chest in front of the bathroom mirror. No hints of bruising anywhere, despite the extent of his previous injuries.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he finished drying his wet hair and tossed the towel onto a nearby chair. It landed on the backrest and draped over it like a fitted sheet. He then quickly donned the bottoms to his sleepwear, leaving his upper body undressed as he laid down on his bed.

He'd been seriously injured once before, back when he saved Yui's dog from being run over. The damage he'd incurred then was nothing compared to what he'd endured almost two weeks ago, yet the former incident had kept him in the hospital recuperating for almost a month.

In contrast, it only took a handful of days for his combat lesions to heal.

They'd looked way worse than they'd felt, too.

 _It must be another one of my powers. The original Spider-Man has superhuman endurance coupled with a healing factor. I must have those, too._

The comfort of his pillow-top mattress threatened to swallow him whole. It was still too early to sleep, though.

He rolled onto his belly and pulled his schoolbag from underneath the bed. Undoing the zipper, he caught a glimpse of a plastic bag. Tucked inside it was a tattered hoodie, given to him by the grateful captives he'd liberated during his first fit of temporary madness. Alongside it, the balaclava mask, goggles and gloves he'd been equipped with during that fateful day. He'd been keeping them handy at all times.

As he peered over the items, he tried to come up with a convincing excuse as to why, but came up short. He had no intentions of slinging again, so he really had no reason to keep those around, right? If anything, it was slightly risky. While he doubted anybody would ever rummage through his personal belongings, the possibility wasn't nonexistent. Despite his desire to have them stowed away somewhere, preferably under lock and key, he found himself hesitant to do so.

And then, there was a low buzz in the deepest depths of his cognition.

That couldn't be his Spider Sense, could it? Here, in the safety of his bedroom, of all places?

It was low and dull, almost imperceptibly so. He kept himself from making any sudden movements, instead scanning his surroundings by darting his eyes around his vicinity, finally fixing them on his door. Was Komachi planning on barging in unannounced? He hadn't forgotten to lock it, had he?

As he shifted his body and set a bare foot on the floor, the sensation that had abruptly manifested vanished just as suddenly. Not missing a beat, he strode towards his bedroom door and twisted the knob.

 _Locked. What was that all about?_

He undid the latch and opened, sticking his head past the jamb. No Komachi in sight; not on either end of the corridor.

Puzzling as it had been, the sensation was gone now. He pushed the strange experience out of mind as he closed the door, making his way for bed. He crouched next to his bag and retrieved what he'd been searching for in the first place – that thick book lent to him by Tobe, containing Spider-Man's debut adventures.

Flicking the lamp on the nightstand on, he relaxed his back against a pillow and continued reading where he'd left off.

Peter Parker, the Spider-Man from the comics – as he became enthralled by artwork and writing from bygone days, Hachiman began to see more and more similarities between himself and the character. His difficulties with the sciences aside, Hikigaya Hachiman was a smart loner with the proportional strength and speed of a spider, like Peter. He understood the care Peter had to take to not overextend and reveal his other identity. Peter's standoffish personality and sarcastic manner was a surprise; he'd expected someone mellower and far more sociable. His depiction in the movies and cartoons was extremely different, to say the least.

If they'd told him a character like Peter Parker would resonate with him so much, he would've called them crazy, but here he was, right at his inception, experiencing exactly that.

Then, there was the thing Hachiman kept dwelling on.

Peter Parker's _reason_ for being Spider-Man.

He'd been leaving a TV Studio after putting on a little show that wowed spectators. Spider-Man was well on his way to becoming a star. As he headed for the exit, a police officer chasing a burglar yelled a plea to slow down his quarry.

The robber ran right past him. Peter elected to do nothing, and the crook commandeered an elevator to safety.

" _What's_ _ **with**_ _you, mister?!"_ the officer reprimanded. _"All you hadda do was trip him, or hold him just for a minute!"_

The young man delivered a hostile reply.

" _Sorry, pal! That's_ _ **your**_ _job! I'm_ _ **through**_ _being pushed around – by anyone! From now on I just look out for number one – that means –_ _ **me**_ _!"_

That was a decision he'd come to regret.

Days later, that same burglar broke into the Parker household. That same burglar shot and killed Benjamin Parker, Peter's Uncle Ben. He'd been the closest thing Peter had ever known to a father, and had he acted earlier...

" _My fault. All my fault! If only I had stopped him when I_ _ **could**_ _have! But I_ _ **didn't**_ _, and now, Uncle Ben is dead…"_

That was the true birth of the Amazing Spider-Man. He was spurred by grief, regret, and a budding sense of responsibility to use his powers for something greater. To **be** greater.

Of course, Hachiman was already acquainted with the gist of that story. It had been retold many, many times before and through every medium imaginable. Yet, having come to know _this_ Peter Parker, alongside his new condition, led him to contemplate further.

 _If something were to happen to Komachi because I chose to stand idly by, could I ever forgive myself?_

It was an intrusive, tormenting thought that overstayed its welcome. However, his musings were thankfully broken by a chime from his smartphone. He reached over to the device and checked his messaging app.

It was a text from Echo: 'There's something I want to show you. Could you drop by tomorrow after school?'

'Have nothing better to do,' Hachiman typed back.

'Great, see you tomorrow then.'

He set his phone aside again, reading a few more issues before turning in for the night. As the hours passed, his body stirred and sweat coursed from his temple, his sleeping form becoming more and more and more agitated…

* * *

The door to the Service Club slid open.

Those within the room turned towards the sudden intruder: one ever-popular Miura Yumiko.

"Yumiko? Yahallo!" Yui called. She was good friends with the olive-eyed blonde; a member of her and Hayama's clique, even.

Yumiko gave her a small wave as she stepped in and closed behind her. "Hello."

"Miura, please make sure to knock next time," Yukino rebuked, unannounced guests always a pet peeve of hers. Miura puffed and rolled her eyes.

Her arrival wasn't too surprising. It had slipped Hachiman's mind with all the things that had been happening recently, but she had made a request of the Service Club; one the male volunteer had been looking into personally.

"Hikio," as if on cue, Yumiko stepped towards him. The air around her was stifling, and Hachiman didn't know if it was her perfume or just her intimidatingly imposing presence. Probably the latter.

"About your request, right?" Might as well cut to the chase. "We haven't forgotten about it."

Maybe he had, but she didn't need to know that.

Before the world had gone insane, she'd petitioned them to determine which career path Hayama Hayato would follow: liberal arts or sciences. More than anything, she had tearfully declared, she wanted to know the answer. She wanted to feel close to Hayato…her feelings for him were obvious to anyone and everyone.

And, Hachiman knew, Hayato callously used those feelings to his advantage. Having her close by in order to keep other girls from confessing to him…

Yumiko shook her head and stared off to the side, fiddling with one of her long curls. She looked almost bashful, but Hachiman knew better. "It's not that. I…I wanted to ask for another favor."

Her demeanor made some semblance of sense now. "Go ahead."

"It's about Yamato."

But of course.

The days go by, and there's still no word from the tall, burly boy.

"You want me to check up on him." It wasn't a question. The girl nodded, avoiding seeing eye to eye with him. Hachiman turned to meet Yukino's gaze, and the girl gave a nod as well.

"I'll do it," he answered matter-of-factly, having received the blessing from the Service Club president.

"Thanks," Miura muttered half-heartedly. "About that other thing…"

She was interrupted, however, by a set of knocks. Someone else was about to step in.

It just had to be Hayama Hayato.

"Here you are, Yumiko," he addressed. "I've been looking for you. Can I talk to you about something outside?"

"Ah. Okay," she leveled one intense glance towards Hachiman as she made to leave. It was harshly imperative, but also a little pleading.

Before long, the Service Club trio no longer had a client to tend to.

"Say, Yukinon," Yui began, "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Oh…? No, not really. There was something, but I elected not to attend."

"I was wondering if maybe you'd like to stop by this place?" she pulled out a flyer and handed it to Yukino. "Seems to be pretty new."

She took one glance at the paper before immediately responding. "Yes. I'd be delighted. In fact, let us depart **at once**."

"What's that?" Hachiman asked. Enthusiasm so evident from the frosty Yukinoshita Yukino was a rare sight indeed.

Yui leaned in closer, grinning. "A _cat café_."

 _Somehow, I'm not surprised in the slightest._

"Hikki, want to come with us?" Yuigahama added.

"Sorry;" Hachiman said, rising from his chair. "There's somewhere I need to go. I should get going, too. See you both tomorrow."

"See you, Hikki!"

"What a shame. Good-bye, Hikigaya."

Departing from the clubroom, he made his way outside towards the school gates. It was hard to believe this place was host to a shootout just a couple of weeks ago – not that the rest of the student body knew about it. It was easy to cover up; any damage to the facilities could be brushed away as incurred during the Siege of Chiba.

There had to be some relation between both events, Hachiman knew, but he'd leave that for law enforcement to deal with. It wasn't his job.

A little later, he met up with Tobe, fresh out of soccer practice, by the gates. Both young men departed together, pep in Tobe's every step.

* * *

Once again, they stood outside Echo's rented apartment. Whatever it was he summoned them for, Tobe looked absolutely stoked. Did he know something Hachiman didn't? Well, not like it mattered, as seconds later Echo swung the entrance open and ushered them inside, taking their schoolbags and setting them aside.

What they saw inside made Tobe grin like a maniac, but forced Hachiman to frown deeply.

There was a humanoid figure standing on the middle of the room, covered from head to toe in a skintight suit. The front of the torso and head was mostly red, decorated with that familiar black cobweb pattern. Emblazoned on the back, a large blue spider extended its legs as if embracing, wrapping around towards the front. A pair of the legs ended just under the clavicles; another pair traced the deltoids and extended until about one-third of the pectorals, their tips then angling back at about forty-five degrees. Said tips ended where they made contact with yet another pair of legs, these instead traveling downwards near the sides of the abdomen and reaching a blue portion that went around the waist as if it were a belt.

The other portions of the suit, outside the perimeter created by the involvement of arachnid limbs, were mostly black, with small exceptions at the end of the limbs. There were some light gray accents, the most prominent on the back of the hand but there were other similar stylings present between the fingers as well. The index and pinky became red just a little past the first knuckle, with the thumb being mostly the same color as the former two appendages. These three fingers were surrounded by ring-shaped black outlines, continuing with the cobweb motif. Just above the hand, sitting on the wrist, were the web shooters, now painted in blue not only to match the spider on the back, but the soles at the suit's feet as well.

The red full-face mask was immediately recognizable. Two large, white, almond-shaped lenses that couldn't be seen into were outlined by thick black frames, with a cobweb pattern extending outwards from between the eyepieces. There were some new additions as well, in the form of two blue pieces of plastic-like material starting under where the ears would be, delineating the jawline and coming to an end near the chin.

The last thing Hachiman appraised was the small black spider emblem resting between the pectorals. His frown grew deeper.

"So, what do you think?" Echo gestured to the mannequin with his thumb. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"It's the greatest!" Tobe exploded in glee. "Man, Hach, with that, you'll really be **the** Spider-Man!"

"…Stop this. Stop messing around."

Hachiman's glared icily at Echo, who appeared unfazed under the glacial scrutiny.

"Whatever do you mean?" the older man asked, despite very well knowing where that had to be going.

"Just stop. Stop trying to force me into playing the role of Spider-Man again."

"…I'm not going to _force_ you, Hachiman," Echo answered. "This here is just in case you ever decide you _want_ to use it, that's all."

"We **both** know that's not how it goes," Hachiman snarled. "You wouldn't put that much work unless you were sure it'd pay off."

"Think you got me all figured out?"

"I know the type," Hachiman spat.

Echo shrugged, unperturbed. "So do I."

" _ **Screw you**_. I'm out of here."

He turned his back to them and stomped away, furious.

Tobe tried to reach out, wanting to say something, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looked to his left and witnessed the older man shaking his head. With words unsaid, Echo communicated to let him go.

* * *

Still irritated, he ambled aimlessly through the streets of Chiba. He didn't feel like heading back home. Not yet. His head was still swimming with a combination of rage, doubt, confusion, apprehension and indecision.

His roaming led him to pass by a kids' playground. Not seeing anybody in, he chose to rest a while despite a lack of physical exertion. He made his way to one of the swing sets, plopping down on the polished wooden plank held up by sturdy chains.

His seat swayed as dusk painted the city in an ethereal orange glow. His thoughts wandered far more than his legs just had.

He didn't want to become Spider-Man because someone told him to, or to meet the expectations of another.

He didn't want to live with regrets, either.

More than anything, he didn't want to die. He was terrified of his own mortality. The thought that he'd one day return to nothing, unable to think or feel or even _exist…_ why would he want to rush into that?

…but there were other things that frightened him just as much.

As far as he knew, he might be the only other person in the world with powers. Not making something with that potential would be a waste, too. This was an opportunity never before offered to anyone else.

Yet why would he risk his life? People rarely accepted him; in fact, only a handful of individuals treated Hikigaya Hachiman with the dignity a human being deserved.

…and for that handful, what would he do? What would he be willing to put on the line?

Try as he might, he couldn't come up with a concrete answer. Or was it that he didn't want to come up with one?

He'd thought his life was turning complicated before the spider bite. In truth, he had no idea how complicated it could get.

He knew there'd be no coming back when he accepted the gift offered to him back in the department store. Was he just running away now? Or had he been wrong then, and he could seize back at least a semblance of his previous life?

Maybe those had been all the wrong questions. Is this something he really should be evaluating in terms of pros and cons, risks and rewards?

 _Maybe what I really should dwell on is this: do_ _ **I**_ _want_ _to be Spider-Man?_

His older self would have quickly answered a negative, but now that he'd experienced what he had, he wasn't so sure.

Try as he might to seal it away, there was an underlying sense of triumph at achieving what he had that day.

 _Once again, Hachiman, remember you're drunk. Drunk with power and exhilaration and a misbegotten sense of self-importance. The world will be fine without Spider-Man. It's kept going all this time without a real one. It doesn't_ _ **need**_ _him._

He kept swaying absentmindedly, lost in the chirping of the swing's chains.

The reverie was eventually broken as he noticed a trio of children surrounding a smaller one. So enraptured had he been by his own thoughts, he hadn't realized he was no longer alone in the park.

But then, he realized the other children were not being the least bit friendly towards the singled out boy.

Hachiman debated whether to intervene or stay put. Would his meddling truly help the boy? Or would it make the situation worse, and future bullying would be far more severe? As he weighed his options, he saw something else – the back of another boy, one whose eyes had not yet become rotten. He was being mocked and called all sorts of demeaning names. Despite the sadness, and despite the loneliness, the boy did not cry, but instead grinned and endured the cruel treatment thrust upon him.

Maybe if he grinned hard enough, maybe if he pretended not to be hurt…they'd accept him.

A high-pitched voice called out from the entrance to the playpark, bringing Hachiman back down from his journey through bitter memories. "Hey! That's enough!"

A young girl with shoulder-length hair marched determined towards where the boys were grouped up. She wore a red hoodie with long blue sleeves maybe one or two sizes too big, sporting that ever so recognizable webbing design.

She stood before the tormented boy, stretching her arms to her sides in a declaration of protection. Hachiman couldn't hear what the children were saying, and he stood up, his body shuffling closer to the group almost involuntarily.

His presence, in the end, wasn't needed – whatever the girl said deterred the other children from continuing with their harassment, and they were gone by the time Hachiman reached the remaining two. Noticing his arrival, they gazed up expectantly at him, an adult in their eyes.

He quickly thought of something, anything, to say. "Good work helping him out."

The girl beamed brightly. "Thank you, mister! I did what Spider-Man would do!"

"Mari, you really like him, don't you?" the rescued boy asked.

"I love Spider-Man!" the girl declared proudly.

Hachiman's lip twisted up ever so slightly as his older brother instincts kicked in, spurring him into asking "Really? Why's that?"

"Because without Spider-Man, daddy wouldn't be here anymore!"

His face fell in shock and his eyes widened as the words struck him like a punch to the gut. He stifled a small gasp, and tried to force his facial muscles into a gentle expression, or whatever he could pass as one. "I-is that so?"

"Yup! Daddy said Spider-Man saved him!"

He couldn't have known, but Hachiman's expression wouldn't simply pass for gentle. It very much was.

"Do you… want to see him? See Spider-Man again?" he asked softly. The girl nodded energetically with a toothy, innocent smile.

"I'll…I'll make sure to let him know," he said lowly. "...Don't stay out until too late, you two. I'll be near if you need help from someone older."

He left the two kids to play, heading back to the swing set with slow, deliberate steps.

… _The world has been 'fine' without a Spider-Man._

 _That same cruel, unforgiving world where people trample over people. Humans maim, kill, lie, deceive and steal. Spider-Man alone won't fix that._

 _But…_

 _This power I've been given made sure a father could reunite with his daughter._

 _Perhaps that's enough._

 _Perhaps that's all I need._

* * *

Yumiko was on cloud nine.

This had to be what perfect happiness felt like.

Her arms were linked around Hayato's right as they strode out of the spacious elevator.

Granted, his invitation had been rather sudden, and preparing so quickly for such a fancy occasion had been challenging, but it was worth it! After all, she was Hayato's date for this fundraiser!

It had something to do with pooling financial resources to assist with the reconstruction of buildings and other facilities damaged during the attack a few weeks back. Quite frankly, she couldn't pay much attention when Hayato begun to explain, far too overwhelmed with joy to process what he'd said.

It was in the Prism Tower, no less! The new crowning jewel of the Chiba City skyline hadn't even been inaugurated yet – this event would double as its debut.

Her pumps clacked along the immaculate marble floor, following the pace set forth by her companion. She felt gorgeous in her evening gown, a burgundy silken ensemble she'd worked very hard to afford and hadn't had chance to wear until now.

Ah, this had to be a dream…

So taken was she by her current situation, she failed to notice the slightly sullen expression on Hayato's face or his forlorn eyes. She didn't pay any mind to the attendant pushing a service cart towards the elevators, either.

When they stepped into the venue proper, she released an awed gasp. At the other end of the tremendous hall was a gigantic window, covering the entire area where a wall should've bene. Even from all the way back, she could appreciate a magnificent view of nighttime Chiba.

This place was so romantic…

If only it wasn't so packed! There had to be at least a hundred guests already, if not more. She'd give anything to spend some time alone with Hayato in such an extravagant paradise.

Then again, it would be the ideal place for a wedding reception. Oh! Her heart fluttered at the mere thought!

"My, if it isn't Hayato!" a sweet voice wafted towards them as a woman with shoulder-length black hair and irises a striking violet gracefully strode towards them, cerulean satin trailing in her wake. Yumiko wouldn't recognize her, but couldn't shake the feeling she'd seen her before.

"…So, this must be Yumiko," the other woman held her chin between her fingers. Her gaze danced over Yumiko, appraising her from head to toe. "My, she's lovely. That's too bad for other young girls in attendance who might've wanted to get to know you better. Isn't that right, Hayato?"

That had been a compliment, hadn't it? If so, why didn't it feel like one?

This time, she did notice Hayato's stony expression. "Haruno, please."

The woman, Haruno, giggled. "I'm just teasing you, Hayato. Oh, but where are my manners? I'm Yukinoshita Haruno. Hayato has told me so much about you!"

This must be Yukinoshita Yukino's elder sister…

"Pleased to meet you," Yumiko said with a curt nod, taking care not to show any of her newfound unease.

Come to think of it, she'd seen Yukinoshita Haruno once before: on stage during Sobu's School Festival concert. She hadn't made the connection then, but both Yukinoshita girls resembled each other, at least physically.

Haruno's poise was completely different from the icy manner of Yukinoshita Yukino. She was bubbly, friendly and exuberant. But then, why were alarm bells going off in Yumiko's head?

Did she feel threatened, and feared this woman would steal Hayato away? No, not quite. Somehow, while she'd gotten the impression such could be the case with Yukino, this was different. But how? Why was this woman making her so nervous?

She was probably overthinking things. Her bizarre anxiety was likely the product of Hayato's mysterious ties to the Yukinoshita family, something she'd eagerly wanted to understand better. And, Yumiko realized, this was an opportunity to learn a little more about that nebulous relationship.

"Say, how do you two know each other?" Yumiko asked, point blank. She could feel Hayato's arm stiffen under her gentle grip.

Haruno grinned sweetly, as if recalling precious memories. There was a twinkle of something else in her eyes, however. Was it… amusement?

"Our families have been good friends for as long as we can remember. I used to take care of Hayato and Yuki – my sister – back when they were little."

That neatly explained a lot of things. Hayama Hayato and Yukinoshita Yukino knew each other since they were children. It wouldn't be strange for Hayato and Yukino to meet for the holidays under familial circumstances and be misinterpreted by unscrupulous onlookers. She'd already believed Yui when she'd sworn there was nothing between those two, and that those rumors were unfounded, but Haruno's account gave her the context she craved.

Even so, this information was completely innocuous. Why was Hayato so tense?

"You could say Hayato is practically a little brother of mine," Haruno continued.

"I'm not sure I'd go so far, Haruno," Hayato smiled sheepishly, and, Yumiko assumed, forcibly.

"No need to be so modest. You're practically part of the _family_!"

This woman, Yukinoshita Haruno…there was more than met the eye with her, Yumiko was sure. It was the only explanation for Hayato's current behavior. The way Haruno delivered that comment, how she locked eyes with her, made Yumiko conclude she just attempted to provoke her. Was this for her own entertainment? Or did she have an ulterior motive?

A blaze sparked and raged within Yumiko. How dare she make Hayato uncomfortable and tarnish their perfect, idyllic dream?

"Ah, that's wonderful," Yumiko instead chose to lace her words with dripping honey. It was time to play the ditzy blonde and pretend she didn't notice a thing. Even if she wanted to tear the woman to pieces, this was neither the time nor the place for a scene. "So, Miss Haruno, is your sister present? I would like to greet her."

"Oh, you know Yukino? Unfortunately, she won't be with us tonight. It's a shame, too, that she's going to miss an event father put so much effort into hosting."

Wait, the Yukinoshitas were the ones holding the event? She kicked herself mentally for not listening more attentively to Hayato's explanation.

Another woman approached their group. Yumiko couldn't tell who it was at first, what with her lacking her trademark braids or hair clips, but as she drew closer, she could put a name on her.

"Hello!" the woman cheerily waved.

"Shiromeguri Meguri! It's so nice to see you! What brings you here?" Hayato exclaimed, finding his chance to steer the subject away from him.

"I came as Haruno's plus-one!" Meguri happily chirped with a truthful smile. "I couldn't resist seeing Prism Tower from the inside on its first night."

"Father's most ambitious construction project to date," Haruno added. "Impressive, isn't it?"

"The view is breathtaking," Meguri said, clasping her hands together. "Hey, did you know? With fifty-five floors, Prism Tower is the tallest building in Chiba!"

"That's really something. Taller than the Makuhari Prince…" Hayato commented, not entirely invested in the current conversation.

"If you'll excuse me, I must continue greeting the new arrivals. Host duties and whatnot," Haruno said. "Megu, why don't you lead them to our table?"

With that, Haruno slinked away and into the crowd. Yumiko could feel Hayato's shoulders loosen.

"Is she always like this?" Yumiko leaned in and whispered, causing Hayato's eyes to widen.

"Y-you noticed?" he stammered in as low a volume.

"It would be hard not to, with how you reacted to her every word."

She might not be the most perceptive person out there, but she'd known Hayama Hayato long enough to notice odd shifts in his behavior.

"Oh," he shook his head. "No, not normally. Not _towards_ me, at least."

Which could only mean such acts usually spared Hayato, but not others…and she could only surmise one other possible candidate.

For the first time in her life, Miura Yumiko was awash with sympathy for Yukinoshita Yukino. This woman could only be described as "dangerous", and she didn't want to imagine what it would be like to grow up under such influence.

In retrospect, Yukino's blunt aloofness started making a lot of sense.

Led to a large round table on the middle of the hall by Meguri, Yumiko and Hayato took their respective seats.

"Say, Shiromeguri," Yumiko began, "Is Miss Yukinoshita is a Sobu alumnus? What's the story between you two?"

"Yes, she was my senior. I looked up to her," Meguri answered, then took a sip of water from a goblet. "I still do."

Yumiko wondered if Haruno's unpleasant side went over Shiromeguri's head. If there was one thing Yumiko could be certain of, it was that the former Student Council president was undisputably a friendly, caring person. To be fair, she would have missed it too, had Hayato not involuntarily clued her.

They made some small talk about Shiromeguri's future plans now that she was preparing for college. Despite the course the discussion was taking, Hayato never interjected with any remarks that could give them an inkling regarding his chosen future career path. Only vague assertions like "I'm still considering," here, or "I'm weighing my options" there.

Eventually, Hayato reached into his suit jacket, retrieving a vibrating cell phone. "Excuse me for a minute, I have to take this," he muttered, rising. Before either of the girls could get a word in, he was already pacing towards the exit, holding the device next to his ear.

Just then, the melodious sound of tinkling crystal made the girls turn their heads towards its source. A regal man in an exquisitely-tailored tuxedo held an empty wine glass on one hand and a dessert spoon on the other. He gently struck the glass a few more times with the underside of the spoon, calling for the attention of everyone present. Setting down the items, he retrieved a microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming," the man spoke, his voice reverberating throughout the hall. "I am humbled. Truly, I cannot thank you enough."

There was some applause, and as it subsided, the man continued. "Dear guests, I love Chiba, and I'm certain I'm not alone in that sentiment. Some of us grew here, and some of us are seeing our children grow here. Chiba City is special and precious for manifold reasons. As such, I'm _also_ certain I'm not alone in experiencing great sorrow at the tragedy it recently experienced."

Solemn silence settled onto the hall for a few moments before the man resumed.

"Many brave men and women put their lives on the line to protect our beautiful city. Several paid dearly, and some even paid the ultimate price. The prevalent impression among the populace is that the aftereffects of the incident were mostly mitigated. While that may be indeed true, let us not forget it's the result of very real human sacrifice."

A poignant quiet followed once more. And once again, the man recommenced.

"It is for that very reason I want to do my part for our beloved city, and I invite you to join me in doing the same. We're establishing The _Friendly Neighbor Foundation_ , with the objective of aiding with the recovery and medical expenses of the servicemen wounded protecting our city. Additionally, with cooperation from my construction company, the Foundation will assist with several infrastructure repair and renovation projects following the attack."

Another round of applause erupted, and the man, most certainly Mr. Yukinoshita, raised a different piece of stemware. His flute glass was filled with sparkling, bubbling champagne.

"A toast," Mr. Yukinoshita declared, beverage held high. "for our darling Chiba."

And then,

Yumiko heard it.

A sound like distant thunder.

And then,

Yumiko saw it,

quick flashes of blinding white.

— And then,

Yumiko felt it.

Unbearable, scorching heat.

Her body being knocked back…

* * *

The children departing for their homes left Hachiman with no excuse to linger in the playground. Night had settled in quite a while ago, and he knew he had to head back to Echo's sooner or later. If only he hadn't left his bag there...

Hachiman wandered back through the streets of Chiba, the way he'd come by earlier. His temper long since subsided, he briefly dwelt on what to say when he got there, before he reminded himself he didn't actually care.

Deep in his thoughts, he almost missed when people stopped in their tracks and pointed at something in the distance while uttering alarmed words.

Yet, he certainly couldn't ignore the howling of sirens and the fire engines whooshing past.

Tracing the indication a myriad fingers, Hachiman spun to witness it:

A spire of crystal and glass,

Overlooking Chiba like a giant,

Exhaling fire and fumes like a dragon.

"The hell…?"

He retrieved his smartphone and opened a news app, scanning the contents of the breaking story.

Keywords caught his eye.

"Prism Tower".

"Multiple Fires".

"Inauguration".

"Fundraising Event".

But there was one set that made his blood curl.

" _Representative Yukinoshita."_

Before he could even think, he was already running.

* * *

A characteristic 'ting!' rang from Echo's phone; a special sound alert that notified him of breaking news in his area;an useful feature to have in his line of work. Immediately, he reached for the remote control and flicked the television on.

"…ause for the multiple fires in Prism Tower is, as of yet, undetermined. There has been no word from authorities regarding the status of the guests present in the fundraising event being held in the fifty-first floor of the building."

Images of burning devastation were displayed on the television set. Tobe, who had occupied himself reading comics until then, tore his gaze from his magazine.

"W-what's going on?" he asked, trying to make sense of the report.

Echo said nothing, instead stepping towards the corner he'd relocated the mannequin to. He removed the mask from the fake head, setting it gently next to the TV.

"Echo, what are you doing?"

He was answered with a command. "Tobe, fetch eight red cartridges. They're in a box inside the closet."

The boy blinked, baffled at first. But then, he realized what the man had meant, and thus obediently shuffled to comply.

"Also fetch the suitcase next to the box. That is my present to _**you**_ , Tobe."

It wasn't long before the front door burst open, suddenly and loudly. Echo didn't care a smug grin came over his features, plain for the new arrival to see.

A figure enshrouded in the shadows of the unlit entrance hall spoke, determined and grim.

" **I need the suit.** "

* * *

When Yumiko came to, her addled mind could only determine two things. One, it was unbearably hot and stuffy. Two, it was very, _very_ hard to breathe.

As she picked herself up, she coughed and hacked unladylike. Her lungs felt like they'd been filled with lead.

Suddenly, something wet and made of cloth pressed against her nose and mouth. It made breathing much, much easier.

Gazing at her side, she saw a kneeling Haruno bathed in an orange glow. She held a dinner napkin over her own face and had offered that same respite to the recently roused Yumiko.

The predatory, playful gleam in Haruno's eyes had been replaced entirely. Now, there was a dependable, concerned glint.

Yumiko took stock of her surroundings. Electrical power was completely gone, the room instead lit by sparse, flickering embers. Guests huddled together, some tending to the fallen, others evaluating exit strategies.

A group of men kept ramming the main doorway, to no avail. They couldn't get the double doors to budge even a little. An emergency exit was similarly jammed, with a man ferociously working the push bar. On the other end of the room, an attendant tried her best to work the side entrance, but the scalding handle kept her from making much progress.

Spotting her purse nearby, Yumiko reached for it and dug for her smartphone within. Intent on calling one-one-nine, she stopped herself from dialing when she noticed Shiromeguri was already agitatedly reporting the situation into her own handset.

Plumes of billowing smoke were quickly filling the hall. Another crowd desperately struck at the gigantic window with chairs and other assorted objects, but failed to make a dent.

"It's useless," said Mr. Yukinoshita's shakily, lying next to his daughter, filtering cloth tied behind his head. "It's extremely strong glass, one step removed from being bulletproof. We implemented it as a safety measure, but now…" the despair in his voice was evident.

Safety measures…as Yumiko's mind cleared, a question came to the forefront. "What about…sprinklers?"

Mr. Yukinoshita shook his weary head, caked in his own blood. "They didn't go off…I don't know why."

Yumiko checked herself – her left arm was bloody and dirty, and her clothes were a mess, but the wounds she incurred were superficial at worst. Still, the uncertainty and peril surrounding them kept her from even the smallest relief.

The more she came back to her senses, the more anxious she felt. Was there any way to escape? Would their air run out? Or would the noxious fumes finish them off first? What happened to Hayato?

Was her only recourse praying for a miracle?

* * *

A lone silhouette darted past in-between the buildings of Chiba City.

If he wasn't so overtaken by urgency, a primal part of him would be relishing in the joy of web-swinging.

Purpose fueled his muscles, determination pumped his blood.

Spider-Man, Hikigaya Hachiman, had become the physical embodiment of a single thought.

 _A daughter won't lose her_ _father tonight._

Like a shooting star, he tore through the sky; a blur of red and black barely noticeable against the backdrop of an inky firmament.

Elsewhere, Tobe begun to familiarize with the gift Echo had prepared for him. The screen of the portable terminal, embedded within a sturdy, angular briefcase displayed buildings swooshing by as Hachiman swung past them.

The Chelicera Camer worked perfectly, transmitting its live feed flawlessly despite the velocity of Spider-Man's displacement.

"Tobe, you have backdoor access to the city's construction records," Echo explained, pointing at an icon. "Download the blueprints for Prism Tower. The system will recreate a 3D image of the structure. You'll be using that to assist Hachiman as his Navigator."

The young man would've normally uttered some remark about how incredibly _awesome_ the whole package was, but with the current emergency at hand, he found his focus was entirely on the mission.

He stared intently at the Prism Tower in his monitor stream, as if his glare could quell the fires of the blazing behemoth. Tiny specks of flashing red and blue on ground level confirmed that emergency services had already set up their perimeter and taking action.

Hachiman clung to the side of a nearby high-rise and ran up to its roof. Holding onto a safety railing, he sized up the fiery edifice he'd soon be breaching.

"Spider-Man, the party was being held at the fifty-first floor, Moonlight Hall. You're facing its direction right now," Tobe informed, studying the computer-generated model. "Fifty-five floors total."

"Got it," Spider-Man answered into his mask's wireless as he counted floors top to bottom. "I'm going to break through the window. Fastest way in."

"Wait," Echo said into his headset. "Glass shards might injure nearby civvies. You have to let them know you're coming in first."

Hachiman quirked an eyebrow. Strangely enough, he felt something gently shift on the corresponding lens as he did so. "Easier said than done."

"Easier done than said," Echo countered. "There's a button under your right Chelicera – err, those are the solid pieces resting on your jaw, by the way. Anyways, press it."

How could he send a warning to people so distant with the press of a button? With some curiosity, he complied with the instruction.

Once he did, he immediately understood.

* * *

A silver Audi aggressively skidded to a screeching halt, marking asphalt. Its sole occupant had no mind to concern herself with trivialities such as proper parking, grasping for a millimeters-thin rectangular object she'd haphazardly thrown into a cup holder earlier and promptly rushing out of the vehicle.

She pushed her way through a throng of awed onlookers, too preoccupied to care for good manners. Crouching her way past barricade tape, she searched around for someone, anyone, who could answer her hundred gnawing questions.

"Hey, you can't be in here!" A policeman said, quickly striding towards her.

The woman raised her secret weapon: the hospital badge she held in her hand. "It's okay! I'm a doctor! I'm here to help!"

Even if she hadn't possessed her I.D. card, the green scrubs and lab coat she wore already gave the impression that could have been the case.

"Are you with one of the emergency response teams? If not, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"It's okay, let her through," called out a fireman. "Saori, over here!"

Usually, stumbling upon an ex-boyfriend after a long time could prove awkward, but at that moment, Hayama Saori let out a sigh of relief and thanked the heavens for small favors.

Deferring to the judgment of a Fire Department Battalion Chief, the patrolman stepped aside and permitted her passage. Swiftly, she went on to meet the awaiting firefighter, who had just finished barking orders to the rescuers under his command.

"Masato," no time for pleasantries. "What's the situation?"

"Multiple fires confirmed throughout the upper levels. I was just about to head for the command point on the thirty-fourth when I saw you. Okay, now for a question from me – what's a plastic surgeon doing in the scene of an ongoing disaster?"

He just had to know why her eyes were bloodshot and her short form was quivering so much.

"It's Hayato," she answered. "He's inside."

"Wait, Hayato is…oh geez," Masato brought a hand to his head.

"I was on the phone with him when – when he let out this bloodcurdling _scream_! And then the call cut off. Masato, what if…what if my boy is…"

"I'm going to stop you right there. We'll get him out," he patted the inconsolable woman on the shoulder.

"Have you…gotten to the party floor yet?" she sniffed.

"Not yet. Designated elevators are not working, and auxiliary power's not starting up. Only way for us to get to them is on foot, and there's a lot of debris in the way. It's gonna take a while."

"Masato! There's no time! What if… the smoke…"

"Saori, I know how it looks, but trust me, we'll figure something o-wait," something caught his eye. "Hey. Would you look at that? I think Hayato's going to be just fine."

"What do you…ah. Ahhh… _ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh_ ….."

What Masato had observed awoke in Saori an optimism that forced her to weep.

It was a declaration bathed in crimson light.

The bright beacon depicted but a simple icon: a red circle, crisscrossed by webbing markings expanding outward from the center, with two white eyes outlined in black…

The message was loud and clear:

"The people inside won't be abandoned to their fate. They're under _my_ protection."

Tears of relief rolled down Hayama Saori's cheeks as the image of the _Spider-Signal_ projected against the blazing Prism Tower seared itself into her heart, forever.

* * *

"…What's that?" Haruno asked as the hall was illuminated in an ethereal red glow. Squinting against the glare, Yumiko saw it.

Her brain went into overdrive as it parsed the meaning behind it.

Haruno's interpretation was faster. "Everyone, away from the windows! Help's coming in!"

The partygoers who had futilely attempted to break the crystal realized what was about to happen and scampered off to find cover.

The blinding radiance disappeared in an instant. It was time.

Here came the miracle.

Seconds later, hope burst through shards of shatterproof glass.

Wasting no time, Spider-Man launched a web at a table near him, swinging it above everyone's heads and crashing it against an undamaged window pane with enough force to break both of the colliding objects to smithereens.

"That should help air the smoke out a bit…" Spider-Man said to no one in particular, despite all eyes being on him right now, and so was the commentary:

"Wow, it's him. It's really him. I think we're really going to make it!" a portly man bellowed.

"Look at his suit! He's the real deal!" exclaimed a female attendant.

Their rescuer continued to speak to some unseen interloper, and Yumiko sat close enough to make out what he was saying. "Okay, I'll do that," he stared upwards and clicked something on a slightly protruding segment to the side of his jaw. The searchlight from earlier lit up the room like a red sun. Spider-Man made some adjustment with the piece, flicking his thumb down as if turning a dial, and the intensity of the beam decreased to that of a flashlight.

He studied the ceiling intently. "Oh, _crap_ …" she heard him mutter, and she could've sworn she saw his –eyes? – widen. "…Wait, you can do that? Patch me through!"

"What's he doing?" Someone murmured. If Spider-Man heard them, he didn't care to provide an answer.

"This is Spider-Man. I'm with the civilians up at Moonlight H-I'm aware this is a restricted frequency, and I don't care! …How can I prove I'm who I say I am? Didn't you just see me come in?! Listen, this isn't the time for that. We've got a _ten-eighty-nine_. …Yes, I know we don't use those in Japan… Well, there you go. That's what it means. Starting to get the picture, here?"

The odd monologue continued on, with everyone staring at the masked figure who furiously argued over what could only be assumed was some sort of radio.

"Okay. Okay, okay, good! That's a plan. All right, I'll get them there. Hurry!"

And with that, Spider-Man finally directed himself to the crowd. "Just had a chat with the emergency response team. They're going to send air rescue. We have to get to the helipad on the roof."

He made his way to the main entrance to the hall, and tore one of the double doors off its hinges.

"Okay, we're not using this exit."

Before him, an imposing pile of rubble blocked his path. Hurriedly, he sprinted for the emergency staircase and kicked its entry down. Whatever he saw inside made him draw the same conclusion:

"This won't work either."

Spider-Man strode towards the opposite side of the hall, placed his palm on a door, and turned to one of the attendants. "This leads to the kitchen, doesn't it?"

The attendant nodded dumbly.

"Stand back," he ordered, working something in his wrist-mounted gizmos as he did. He removed a cylinder from his right bangle and pulled at the front of a blue sash-like portion of his suit that went around his waist. A section of the stripe peeled and Spider-Man retrieved a handful of red cartridges from within, placing the cylinder he'd unloaded inside. Finally, he affixed the stripe back in place.

"Okay, here goes…you better not be lying about these things working on _anything_!"

He raised his right arm perpendicular to the ground, loaded one of the red cartridges into his bracelet, and then it was turn for that doorway to get kicked in.

Immediately, flames threatened to escape their containment and swallow Spider-Man whole. The encroaching flare was met by a projectile helping of a thick, goopy substance, followed by another, another, another, and then another. Spider-Man's hand flew over the wrist gadget, making two lightning-fast passes. In the first, the formerly loaded cartridge was ejected forcefully like a spent bullet casing from a pistol. In the second, a new cylinder was loaded and affixed. So dexterous were his movements that his reloading took about a second.

He repeated this with a couple more cylinders before heading inside the kitchen. His head poked from around the doorjamb moments later. "Way to the hallway's clear!"

A crowd of eager, panicked victims began to push their way towards safety.

"Hey! Keep it orderly! Have you people never been to a fire drill?!" Spider-Man protested, clearly annoyed with the brewing chaos.

"He's right!" Mr. Yukinoshita shouted. "Everyone, please remain calm, don't rush. Please cooperate so Spider-Man may aid us effectively! Please, follow after me!"

The anxious conglomerate saw reason in the man's words, and slowly began to become pliable to guidance. Haruno took the initiative and began to direct. "Form up over there! Keep a straight line!"

Meguri soon joined her, positioning herself opposite to Haruno and helping keep the line disciplined.

As for Yumiko, she decided to hang back and wait for everyone else to exit first. Spider-Man wouldn't leave someone behind, right? If she went last, she'd get a chance to talk to him…and ask him to find Hayato.

She, too, began to battle her agitation. Hayato had to be all right! He _had_ to…!

Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to concentrate in her self-imposed task. That was the best she could do for Hayato now.

Eventually, the hall thinned out, and Yumiko followed behind Shiromeguri and Haruno, entering a large kitchen splotched throughout in a white powdery substance. Within, Spider-Man was engaged in a discussion with one of the staffers.

"…Well, there are no charred corpses, and that's a good sign," said Spider-Man. "So, either they already left, unless…the fire blocked their way out from the start…"

Without warning, he leapt towards the end of the kitchen, flipping over an aluminum counter. He inspected the handle to a large slab of reinforced metal.

"It's molten. Fire must've messed it up."

Spider-Man snaked the fingers of both his hands between the slab and the wall, and with a mighty pull, forced it open. A cold draft invaded the room as he did.

Taking a peek inside, Spider-Man found exactly what he'd hoped to. "These the cooks you were looking for?" He said to the staffer he'd been talking to. "Come on," he gestured to those inside with his head "Roof. We're leaving."

Out of the walk-in cold storage, a sizable group of kitchen personnel filtered out, their clothes torn and their appearance haggard but mostly unharmed. They were shivering pretty violently – despite the lack of electricity, it still had to be extremely cold in there. Any more exposure, and they might have succumbed to hypothermia.

Seeing her chance to get a word in, Yumiko stepped right in his face. His eyes, lenses, _whatever_ , widened in surprise. She chose to ignore that and spoke what she'd set out to.

"Spider-Man, my-my friend. He's missing."

"O-okay. Are you sure you didn't just lose sight of him?"

Yumiko shook her head sadly. "No, he'd left the hall to take a call when everything just…happened."

"…All right, lady. What's your name?"

"I-It's Yumiko. Miura Yumiko."

"Okay, Miura. Stay with the group. I'll go find your friend."

"But how will you know it's him?! Let me go with you!"

"Listen, I cannot guarantee your safety if you-"

"Let me go instead!" Haruno stepped forward. "I know the guy she's looking for. I can identify him for you."

" **NO!** " Spider-Man's lenses expanded even more than before as he released a startled shout. It was as if the being accompanied by a woman of Haruno's considerable charms was a more frightening prospect than braving a blazing building. "Err, I mean… _ **no**_ , because I saw how you handled yourself back there. I need you to keep doing that, so please continue helping with the evacuation."

"O… _kay?_ " Haruno quirked an eyebrow, no doubt unsure sure what to make of the outburst.

"Anyways, keep leading everyone to the helipad. Miura and I are going to take a look around."

He sure changed his mind fast.

Yumiko recalled an ongoing discussion regarding Chiba's Spider-Man: whether or not he had a Spider Sense like his fictional counterpart. She hadn't paid mind to the ongoing television coverage speculating about every aspect of the mysterious benefactor, but she wondered if some extraordinary perception warned him the woman was bad news…

She shook the thought off. The only thing that mattered was Hayato's safety, and she couldn't afford to let her concentration wander. Stepping out the kitchen's other doorway, they reached a dim corridor, strips of emergency lightning on its sides doing a very poor job of illuminating the space but nonetheless indicating the path to the closest stairwell. She crouched in the near-dark, intent on removing her pumps.

"Keep those on," Spider-Man said, shining his red searchlight on her stooping form.

"But my feet are killing me!"

"Not as much as they would if you stepped on glass or some other thing that could cut you."

Yumiko huffed, straightening her body back up. "Point taken," she conceded, picking the smartphone she'd set down to work on her shoes.

"Don't want to have to carry you around if you injure yourself, is all."

"How thoughtful," Yumiko barbed as she operated her phone, turning its LED flashlight on.

Spider-Man began to descend down the corridor. "Don't stray too far, Miura. If you see anything, let me know."

Yumiko walked behind him, a few feet away, scanning with her own personal light. They pressed on, inspecting side rooms, a janitor's closet, and even the restrooms.

Spider-Man kept calling out:

"Hey, is there anyone here?!"

"We're here to get you out!"

"Say something if you can hear me!"

They had almost circled the entire floor and reached the ruined entrance of Moonlight Hall when her beacon caught on gold, causing it to gleam.

Yumiko gasped. She recognized it. That timepiece…it was Hayato's watch…

There, resting atop a piece of rubble…was _Hayato's bloodied arm_.

" **SPIDER-MAN!** " Yumiko cried out as her very being was subsumed into absolute horror.

It was as if her hopes, dreams, future, everything, _her whole world_ was about to come crumbling down.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he crouched low and began to pick chunks of collapsed concrete and toss them aside. He worked swiftly, silently, purposefully…before letting out a sharp, relieved sigh.

"…He's breathing. He's alive."

Yumiko's legs buckled and she fell to her knees, the relief too much to bear standing. Her body softly collided against Spider-Man's, and with all her strength seemingly sapped away, her temple came to rest against his shoulder.

"Thank you, oh thank you, _thank you so much_ …" she could feel the tears welling up.

Spider-Man, in turn… physically shrugged her off him with a motion of her newfound support.

"Hey!"

"I said I wasn't going to carry you. Now if you can just let me finish getting him o-"

The building rocked violently and the same booming sound from earlier reached Yumiko's ears. "What was tha-"

She, too, was interrupted – by screaming. Screaming from a hysterical Hayato, who violently flailed his arms and howled at the top of his lungs.

"Hey, stop, you're gonna hurt yourself!" Spider-Man growled, being struck by the palms thrashing about. "Stop that… _stop it_!"

But Hayato continued striking at Spider-Man, completely consumed by a feral, terrified frenzy. It wouldn't cease until the arachnid caught the battering limbs in his hands.

" **HAYATO!** _PULL IT TOGETHER_!"

Spider-Man's imperative stopped the confused Hayato in his tracks, as he squinted against the beam emitted near his rescuer's chin. The lamp cast its lines on the contours of Hayato's slack-jawed face, his eyes and those of the projection corresponding perfectly.

"Now calm down, and let me get you out of there. We _have_ to get going as soon as we can."

Spider-Man continued liberating him from his entrapment, tossing more and more debris aside, until he lifted a large hunk and abruptly halted.

"Miura."

"Y-yes?"

"Turn off your light," he ordered as he slung Hayato's darkened silhouette across both his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"W-why would I do that?!"

"Do…as he says…" Hayato weakly interjected.

It didn't sit right with her, but she ultimately complied. She could never say no to Hayato.

"Miura, follow my light and stay close," Spider-Man said. They began to press on for the roof, climbing a few flight of stairs.

They reached the stairwell that lead to the roof access, and Yumiko's heart sank. It was completely sealed off by a mass of broken concrete and gnarled metal.

"Damn it!" Spider-Man muttered. "Can anyone hear me?!"

"I can hear you, Spider-Man!" A voice called out from the other side of the wreckage. It was clearly Haruno's.

"What's the situation over there?!"

"Evacuation is underway and nearly complete! Luckily nobody was caught on the explosion that blocked the stairwell!"

Explosion? Had that been what they'd heard earlier and startled Hayato awake?

"Did you find him?!" Haruno yelled.

"Yeah, he's with us right now!"

"Those are some good news, at least! Hey, they're calling me, it's time to board! I'll see you guys back on solid ground! Good luck!"

Spider-Man sighed. "Looks like I'm stuck babysitting you guys for a bit longer. Fire Department asked me to check the security office in the forty-sixth floor and make sure nobody's trapped in there. Then I'll get you out."

They descended those same stairs, thankfully not stumbling unto any other obstacles on their way down. When they did reach the forty-sixth level, however, there was another mound of debris that would've prevented them from reaching the forty-fifth.

"Guess we're lucky we got where you needed to go, huh…" Yumiko said, appraising the insurmountable hill of masonry.

"…I don't think luck has anything to do with it. Come on."

As if knowing exactly where to go, Spider-Man led them in front of an office. The plaque next to the ajar entrance indicated that it was, in fact, the security room.

Her guide splayed his free palm towards her, indicating her to keep some distance. He pushed the door with a tense creak, slinking inside. She accessed the office behind him, noticing that he was staring intently at what appeared to be a rectangular platform about the size of a school desk sitting in the middle of the pitch-black room. Covered by a tablecloth, an immaculately-frosted cake took up most of its surface. The cake was topped with a super-deformed human-like figure, with a head too big and a body too small.

"I have…a bad feeling about this..." Hayato, perched across Spider-Man's back, tiredly added.

"You and me both…Are you recording this?" Spider-Man said, the last part assumedly not directed at either her or Hayato.

Ambling closer, Yumiko took a good look at the confection's topper. It was some sort of cheap toy, the type that'd be included with a fast food meal. By itself, that wouldn't be worrisome – but the toy was of Spider-Man, the eyepieces of his mask crossed out with thick black marker.

That wasn't foreboding at all.

Spider-Man snatched a card resting next to the cake. "Congratulations…"

He grabbed hold of the tablecloth and tugged, tumbling the dessert away.

Yumiko was petrified.

There, stacked atop the racks of a serving cart.

Bundles of rectangular, brick-like objects.

And a red number display making it abundantly clear what those were… _marking_ _ **0:24**_.

She was immediately scooped off her feet.

Before she could even react, Spider-Man had wrapped his right arm around her midsection.

They darted down corridors until he found a window.

" **HOLD ON TIGHT!** "

She didn't get a chance to shout as he spiraled ahead feet-first and defenestrated past a rain of sparkling crystal.

Behind them, a fireball roared like a fevered beast, lashing at them with a merciless gale.

Yumiko wanted to scream, just like Hayato was, but she couldn't even find her voice. Instead, she closed her eyes and held on tighter to Spider-Man's chest as gravity battered them.

And then, they were slowing down.

Mustering the courage to open her eyes, Yumiko witnessed their savior, his left hand gliding gradually down a web-line as Hayato held on to the hero's arm for dear life.

Yumiko couldn't help but ask: "…how did you know that was going to work?"

"…I didn't."

As they inched closer and closer to the ground, deafening cheers and wild applause broke out.

"I guess you ended up having to carry me, after all," Yumiko quipped, confidence returning once her feet were firmly planted on solid earth again.

"Yeah, and I hope I never have to lug around two people at the same time ever again," Spider-Man shot back.

"…Uh, guys…" the injured Hayato interrupted.

"Right. If you'll excuse me, Miura, I have to send your boyfriend to the hospital. Later."

Yumiko didn't get a chance to correct him about her relationship to Hayato (and honestly, she didn't want to) for he immediately made his way towards one of the ambulances. Shortly thereafter, a group of paramedics led her away, checked her up, bandaged her scuffs, and kindly gave her a water bottle to drink from. She hadn't realized how parched her throat had been once it was all over.

Sitting safely on the edge of a rescue vehicle, a thermal blanket wrapped around her, the events of the night began to replay in her mind. She had never been so close to death nor to losing someone important to her.

If it hadn't been for Spider-Man, she probably wouldn't have survived through the night. She wondered if any of the guests would've.

He might've been a little prickly, but she was truly, truly thankful. Nobody else could've gotten Hayato out from under those ruins so quickly.

…wait a minute…

" _ **HAYATO!**_ _PULL IT TOGETHER_!"

Those words echoed within her.

She'd been too nervous to notice before, but now, in hindsight, it stood out.

There was something strange about them. Something that didn't add up.

…That was it.

Miura Yumiko came to a startling realization.

…Nobody ever mentioned Hayato's name to _him_.

* * *

Hachiman safely laid Hayato out on the stretcher, taking special care not to further injure the boy's mangled, broken legs. They were a sorry sight, one so gruesome they made his stomach twirl.

Regardless, a woman that looked like a doctor kept showering him with inconsolable gratitude. From how she referred to Hayato as "her boy", he could only assume this had to be his mother.

Soon, the stretcher was loaded into an ambulance and they were gone. Some of the tension in Hachiman's body faded. Even if he never saw eye to eye with Hayama Hayato, he would never wish him actual harm.

Secretly, he was glad he managed to get Hayama and Miura out from that deathtrap.

Thoughts about how guilt motivated Peter Parker into being the original Spider-Man invaded. He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want to be shackled by penance.

In the corner of his lens, he spotted two very familiar young girls.

Their eventual arrival had to be a given, really.

He saw Yukinoshita Yukino, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, run up to her father and lock him in a shaky embrace.

 _Guess…that's another father and daughter reunion I've made possible._

It was time to go. He didn't belong there. Not anymore, for the job was done.

One web shot later, and he was up on the roof of another building.

"Well, that was something, alright."

"Hachiman..." Tobe's softly spoke into his earpiece. "…You keep savin' me, and everything important to me. Thank you, man. Really."

"Hey, what was I supposed to do, leave them there? I did what I had to, that's all."

Tobe snorted. "Still, thanks."

"Yeah, whatever. And Tobe?"

"Hm?"

"Good job. Even if I did all the heavy lifting."

"…You want me to skip on givin' you directions next time?" Tobe shot back, but Hachiman could hear his grin.

"Look at you two go," another voice radioed. "This is what we call a textbook buddy cop duo. One's dour and gruff! The other's peppy and cheery! Together, they fight crime!"

"Ah, stuff it, Echo," Hachiman bemoaned.

"…So what will you do now, Hachiman?" Echo asked.

"Have to stop by your place and pick up my stuff."

"Not really what I meant to ask."

"While I'm there," Hachiman continued, "we could review the footage you captured and see what we can make out of all this. There. There's your answer."

Echo snorted, and Hachiman could practically hear the smarmy satisfaction. "…See you in a bit, then. Over and out." Echo closed.

"...Yeah, I'd appreciate some quiet swinging time," Hachiman said, loading the half-used web cartridge he'd stored earlier into his right shooter.

With that, he disappeared into the night.

 _My life is truly strange. One day, I'm the loner everyone at school hates. The next, I'm still that, but I'm also everyone's favorite superhero on the side._

 _There's no way around it: I'm drunk with the power I currently possess. As I swing across the city, it's hard not to feel exhilaration. Nothing else comes close._

 _It's incredible. The scenery unfolding below me, and behind me, in front of me, and above me._

 _I kept thinking about reasons I should avoid being Spider-Man. Kept telling myself that risking everything for strangers wasn't worth it. After all, in the years I've been alive, I've constantly been on the receiving end of human cruelty. I've been isolated and hurt by the jeering words of others, again and again and again._

 _There was never anyone in my corner. Nobody who would stand up for me, at least until recently._

 _But now…even if nightmares continue to haunt me…I think I_ _ **want**_ _to be Spider-Man._

 _I can be that person that was never there for me._

 _Even if it's just the foolish wish of my inebriated self…_

 _All the sorrow, abandonment, and pain I've experienced thus far in my life, I…_

* * *

 **THE SPLENDID SPIDER-MAN**

 _ **Issue #2 –**_ _ **Naturally, Hikigaya Hachiman Mulls Over His Role**_

* * *

"… _I'm going to make sure it's worth_ _ **something**_ _."_

* * *

 **[THE LETTERS COLUMN]:**

* * *

 **Apologies for the delay in the delivery of this issue! However, I still made my monthly quota, even if just barely! I was actually thinking on making updates** _ **at least**_ **monthly, with quicker updates if possible, but considering I prefer to pen issues where a lot happens, that might prove challenging.**

 **That said, there's another reason there was a delay in publishing: I'm really slow at drawing. What's this about drawing, you ask? This story is text, you say? Well, yes, yes it is – but I had to design Hachiman's suit! You can see _A PICTURE OF THE SUIT _at thesplendidspider-man over on tumblr dot com! If I get a chance, I'll upload sketches and other art to that** **blog. Then again, I was so busy with work and writing, I didn't even get a chance to draw a back view for the suit! Hopefully I managed to get that idea transmitted to you well enough in writing.**

 **Now, for what people have actually written in:**

 **Nerubian Assassin says this story should be put under crossovers (in fanfiction dot net). Well, I respectfully disagree, for this story is Hachiman's story, as well as of those around him (that is to say, exclusively** _ **Oregairu**_ **characters). How they act, how they grow, and how they develop under this situation, with character arcs already plotted in advance. While I'm planning on including some cameos (and we've already seen one in Echo), these are supporting characters whose presence in the story is to make the world feel vast. Much like how, in** _ **The Amazing Spider-Man #1**_ **we had a guest appearance by The Fantastic Four, but that was squarely a Spider-Man story. Unless, of course, you meant this as a crossover between Spider-Man and** _ **Oregairu**_ **– in which case I'm not sure whether injecting a concept from one work to another would count as a traditional crossover.**

 **(Then there's also the fact that ff dot net's crossover cataloguing system is really, really bad!)**

 **ToolazytoLogin asks if I have a lot of free time. Hoo boy, do I wish that were the case! Regardless, this is a story I really want to tell, so I'll work hard to get it told!**

 **To DarkDurian: sorry to have kept you waiting!**

 **Finally, Wryyy mentions Hachiman should be "Venom black" and puts a mental image in my head that's both amusing and terrifying. Now this gives me a chance to share with you a bit of Spider-Trivia as well as some concepts behind the story.**

 **First for the trivia: many have at least some passing familiarity with the Emissary from Hell, the main character in Toei Company's Japanese Spider-Man adaptation, Yamashiro Takuya. But, did you know there's** _ **another**_ **Japanese Spider-Man from the seventies? This would be** _ **Komori Yu**_ **, protagonist of the first Spider-Man manga. He is a troubled young man who faces extreme psychological strain from being thrust into the role of Spider-Man. So I don't think you can attribute a single "personality" to Spider-Men: there have been so many that are not Peter Parker, and act nothing like him!**

 **And now, regarding the story: I can reveal three points at this time without spoiling anything.**

 **First, I want to depict contrasts between the perception of Spider-Man and the reality of Hikigaya Hachiman. You know how Spider-Man is always being called a menace in the comics? It's different here, isn't it? After all, this is a world where people grew up with the same stories of Spider-Man we did. People love** _ **Spider-Man**_ **. Yet, when it comes to Hikigaya Hachiman…**

 **Oh, look at me blabbing on. On to the next point, coupled with another bit of trivia: did you know Spider-Man's costume during the Lee-Ditko era (that is to say, Spider-Man's first adventures) was not red and blue, but red and black? You see, back in the day, it was common to use blue to add highlights to black in comics, due in no small part to the printing technology available at the time. When John Romita Sr. took up artistic duties following Ditko's departure, he misinterpreted those sections as** _ **actually**_ **blue, and another important milestone of Spider-History was reached.**

 **Now, as indicated within the story, the Peter Parker during Ditko's run was VERY different from the one we know today. He had this huge chip on his shoulder, was constantly irritable and often blew people off. In fact, reading these old issues is what gave me the inspiration to weave this yarn – "wow, early Peter reminds me a lot of my favorite rotten-eyed loner", or something like that.**

 **What I'm trying to get at here is that Hachiman's Spider Protector is largely black due to these reasons. One, it's the color that I, too, associate the most with the boy. Two, it's a homage to the Ditko run, the period where Spider-Man was just getting started out** _ **AND**_ **when Hachiman and Peter Parker's personalities were at their most similar.**

 **However, don't forget this is just a nod! Hachiman is on the road to becoming his own Spider-Man. Not Peter Parker, or Miles Morales, or Komori Yu, or even Hobie Brown. He's his own person, with his own set of experiences, who will make his own decisions and will have to live with them.**

 **And, to everyone, including those mentioned above, thank you** _ **SO**_ **MUCH for leaving a review! Please keep them coming! You guys are the ones that keep me going, really. Besides, more reviews give me a chance to point out some more behind-the-scenes stuff as well as spout some more Spider-Trivia.**

 **Finally, I'm going to see Spider-Verse tomorrow! It hasn't debuted over here yet, and opens Christmas Day. So stoked to get to watch it!**

 **Oh, one more thing! The book Hachiman's been reading is "Marvel Epic Collection: Spider-Man – Great Power". It collects Amazing Fantasy #15 (Spider-Man's debut issue), Amazing Spider-Man #1 through #17, as well as Amazing Spider-Man Annual #1. If you're interested in reading it yourself, there you go.**

 **Thank you so much for reading! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! It's time for me to swing away!**


	3. Searching for Paths

There was an issue with being a superhero in Japan. The past few days had made it clear.

It was true he enjoyed the freedom to spin his webs and swoop between buildings. Yet, the lack of crime made his daily patrols feel aimless. Thoughts on the need for a Spider-Man often slunk back into his head.

He slipped his grip on the webbing strand and soared onward.

Defying logic and reason with every swing would never get old, but lack of purpose weighed him down. Having been galvanized by Prism Tower, the lack of leads proved disappointing.

"Congratulations on your birthday..." Hachiman muttered, launching another gossamer strand from his wrist-mounted gadget.

"What was that?" a voice spoke into his ear.

"Nothing, Tobe. Just thinking back to the card and the cake," Hachiman answered. He darted towards a nearby building, sticking his fingertips to its windows. His reflection was awash warm orange.

"Spi-dey! Remember, no using our real names while on the prowl! Call me by my code name, come on!" Tobe whined.

"...I'll do that after you choose something better."

"Hey, what's wrong with _Rick Jones_?"

"One, not everything has to be a reference. Two, Rick Jones is not even a Spider-Man character."

"Oho! You've been doing your research, I see!" Tobe cheered.

"I Googled the name. Knew it had to be something ridiculous."

"Wow, I didn't know you cared. I'm touched, Spidey," he could practically hear Tobe grinning on the other end. Hachiman rolled his eyes underneath his mask and the lenses on his likeness shifted. In his opinion, motion-sensing eyepieces were an element that presented dubious usefulness. Yet, Echo insisted they were essential, and the suit's most important feature.

"Whatever. Is there anything on the scanner?"

"Police chatter is as uneventful as always, Spidey."

"Might as well head back," Hachiman said. "All I'm doing right now is wasting web fluid."

"With how slick your moves are gettin', can you really call it a waste?"

"When it comes to a resource this precious, yes," Hachiman said. He glanced around, looking for an alleyway to change out of his suit.

Suddenly, the calm, serene ambiance of Chiba was broken by a bloodcurdling scream.

" **What the** -?!" an alarmed Hachiman jerked his head in the direction of the sound. In one fluid motion, he kicked himself off the structure and dove like a raptor. With a web-line, he closed the distance between his plummeting form and a mid-rise. Still holding onto the web, he ran across the building's wall, his trajectory a rising curve. Reaching the edge, he lunged at the next edifice in his path, clung to the surface and swiftly crawled to the top.

That shout, unmistakably belonging to a woman - it had to be close, that way...!

That rooftop over there!

A male figure loomed menacingly over a schoolgirl lying on her side. He wore a navy blue blazer matching his potential victim's. Had Hachiman taken a moment to process the scene, he would've recognized the uniform.

But Hachiman didn't have the luxury to spare a single second.

" **STOP RIGHT THERE!** "

In the blink of an eye, Spider-Man stood between the female and her attacker, lifting him by the collar. The rock-hard fist at the end of an arm poised to strike expressed the vigilante meant business.

"Whoa, whoa! Uncle!" the foreigner at Hachiman's mercy cried. "There's no need to get violent, mate!"

"Give me one good reason," Hachiman's lenses narrowed as he snarled, "I shouldn't clock you. Right. Now."

"...Um, how about a smile?" a feminine voice spoke.

He tore his murderous glare away from his captive. He found his silhouette mirrored on the curvature of a lens trained at him. The girl he'd intervened for had spoken, and she held a Nikon camera. It was the sort of which would belong in the hands of a professional photographer.

He stared back at the blond captive in his iron grip, back at the girl with the camera, then back at the guy. The young man shrugged with a half-cheeky, half-nervous grin. "We-we were just joshin' you!"

"...I can't believe this," a dumbfounded Hachiman said, making the mental connection. He released his prisoner and brought a palm to his masked face. "Of all the stupid, thoughtless things..."

"Come on, we had to get your attention somehow! For the record, I'm Ewan. This here is my special lass, Reiko. Now, you wouldn't mind me asking some questions, would ya?"

"No, I'm the one who's going to ask the questions here," Hachiman pointed a finger accusingly. "Why would you pull this idiotic stunt?!"

"W-we wanted to interview you, ya see, for our..."

Hachiman's index digit jabbed towards the pressured teen's face. "What you did was waste my goddamn time. That's not even the worst part - I could've injured you, very, very badly. Did you stop to think, for a single moment, the danger you were exposing yourself to?"

"Come on, Spidey, Spidey! You're everyone's favorite chap!" The grinning Ewan shrugged dismissively. "You wouldn't shoot first, ask questions later, now would you?"

"Would I?" Hachiman's intense stare forced Ewan to flinch. "No way you could've known for sure."

"W-well, it's a good thing I wasn't wrong!" Ewan added, chuckling nervously. Hachiman huffed in exasperation, turning his head towards the girl with the camera.

"You too. Aren't you supposed to care for this moron? How could you play along?"

The girl's shoulders trembled. "I-I wanted to meet you, too..."

"And you did...making the worst first impression possible. Congratulations. Hope you're happy."

Reiko shrank visibly under the admonishment but nonetheless did her best to press on. "W-what about our interview?"

"Some gall you've got," Hachiman's deep frown creased his mask. "Must be nice, having the free time to make fools out of yourselves. Better hope nobody needed my help while you two kept me held here. Because if someone did? That's all on you."

Before either could get a word edgewise, Hachiman was gone. He swung away furious, his jaw clenched and blood on fire.

"...Can't believe how stupid people can be," Hachiman muttered as landmarks zoomed past.

"...Spidey? You okay over there?" Tobe asked, catching the web-slinger's growling over the mask's microphone. "Don't let them get to you."

Hachiman took a deep breath, releasing his web-line and launching another. "...I'm wondering if aimless swinging is really the best way to make this whole Spider-Man thing work."

Kakeru Tobe's contemplative expression would never be witnessed by anyone. "Aimless, huh..." the youth repeated, words lingering on his lips but also elsewhere.

* * *

"Now listen up. This is the most important thing I'm going to be teaching you boys."

Both Tobe and Hachiman pored over the mask lying on the small table.

"Separate the assembly here," Echo removed a ribbon cable from its socket, "and here." With little effort, he released the so-called Chelicerae from the jawline. Next, Echo extracted the lenses, leaving only cobweb-pattern fabric behind.

"And then," Echo finished, "throw it into the wash with the rest of the costume. Don't worry, the soles are safe for machine wash and tumble dry."

"Are you going to try to sell me on Ariel detergent next? Sorry, my family only stocks the laundry cabinet with Attack," Hachiman said.

"Haw haw," Echo lampooned. "Anyways, do the reverse when putting them into your spare mask. And don't forget to fold it properly so it fits in your pocket."

"Yeah, yeah," Hachiman replied, "what about web fluid, though. You're nowhere near close to figuring out how to make it, are you?"

Echo shook his head. "No, nothing so far. Neither I nor my trusted contacts have been able to determine the composition."

"We're running very low," Hachiman added. "and with you leaving soon... don't think a miracle breakthrough is happening."

"Ah, if only vacation time could last forever," Echo lamented. "I was hoping you'd have all the tools you'd need after I was gone, but that's looking pretty unlikely."

"Man, if only we could ask someone how to make it..." Tobe, fingers entwined behind his head, absentmindedly remarked. Silence followed as Echo and Hachiman froze, glancing at each other.

"There's no way that could be it...could it?" Hachiman uttered.

"We don't have many more options...a shot in the dark, but worth a try. At the very least, it could give us an idea of where to start looking," Echo concluded.

Tobe's eyes widened, realizing what he might've sparked. "...No way, you guys aren't thinking what I think you're thinking!"

"Hey, desperate times. Besides, it was your idea. Kinda," Echo said as he produced his smartphone and began typing away.

Meanwhile, Hachiman retrieved a vacuum-sealed plastic bag from a box. "Guess I'll be wearing this sooner than I thought," he tore open the bag. The contents: a second Spider Protector, identical to the one spinning in the wash.

"Don't forget the talcum powder," Echo muttered, eyes glued to his phone screen.

"Better text Komachi and let her know I'll be running a little late."

"...we're really doing this, huh..." Tobe admitted in resignation.

* * *

Kamiya Yuusuke plopped down against the backrest of his office chair. If there was one thing the man struggled with, it was paperwork.

He'd always been a man of action. His talents were best suited for lightning-fast decision-making in do-or-die situations. He was also gifted when it came to designing training exercises. Those would provide his men with the tools to operate successfully and safely in the field.

Documenting, archiving and recording data were exceedingly droll tasks in comparison.

Still, it was an important part of his job, and he would complete those duties on time.

...Right after this Youtube video, of course.

After all, he wasn't watching for leisure.

The browser window displayed a grainy cell phone recording from the Siege of Chiba. It was the moment JSDF helicopters arrived and released ordnance within the city.

Captain Kamiya bit the inside of his cheek. Such a deliberate and decisive action couldn't have found approval through proper channels. Even in an unprecedented, catastrophic situation...Japanese bureaucracy would never adapt so quickly. This, he was certain of.

His musings shattered when a knock came from outside - not from the door, but from his window.

One problem. His office was located on the fourth floor.

"What the..." he yelled, turning around, training kicking in. Operating on reflex, he drew his Model 3913 handgun, safety off, aiming down sights in a Weaver stance.

Outside, on the end of the weapon's barrel, a human silhouette hung upside-down. The shadow held a thin strand in their left hand, further secured between their feet.

"Err, hello...Captain Kamiya, was it? Could you put that down?" the figure requested, somewhat meekly.

Kamiya released the breath he held and relaxed his tense muscles, lowering the pistol. "…You almost gave me a heart attack. I never would've thought Spider-Man would visit me." Holstering his trusty service weapon, the man took a few steps forward and pushed the window open. "Although next time, I'd appreciate if you could make an appointment first."

"It's not like I had your number," Spider-Man rebutted, inviting himself in.

"I assume you're not here to exchange business cards. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Spider-Man didn't beat around the bush. "I need a favor."

"Oh?"

"I hear a certain prisoner is under your direct custody. One unique, dangerous prisoner."

Kamiya sighed, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. "How do you know that? ...But yes, you're correct. The whole issue's convoluted, to say the least. There's still arguing whether Tsuchigumo should be under military arrest or police custody."

"It's not like there's even been a criminal like him before," Spider-Man observed.

Kamiya nodded a bit wearily. "For now, the SAT is directly responsible for keeping Tsuchigumo captive. If you'd told me last year we'd be doubling as jailers, I'd have called you crazy. Don't get me started on the paperwork. We've had to file the transfer of so many goons to other prisons across Japan."

"How're you keeping him contained? If he's at least as strong as I am, he could break out of any cell."

"We had to hastily re-purpose an underground shelter into a private prison," Kamiya said. "Even for you, it'd be difficult to get through all the security fail-safes implemented."

"Are you...one hundred percent sure about that?" Spider-Man questioned, one of his lenses arching upward.

"A heavy enough dose of anesthetics works well enough on him," Kamiya answered. "Our mistake last time was trying to bring him down with conventional arms fire. He can dodge bullets, but let's see what he can do when we saturate the area with soporific gas."

Spider-Man crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I wouldn't rely on that too much. I can hold my breath for several minutes. Could be enough time for Tsuchigumo to get away."

"...Noted. There goes any sleep I might have had tonight," Kamiya lamented.

"So, I take he's kept near the city? Is that really okay?" Spider-Man mused out loud.

"Quite frankly, I don't agree either, but I'm pretty sure the government decided to keep him in Chiba for a reason."

"Hoping I can capture him if he breaks loose?" Spider-Man's supposition was obviously correct. "Is this a good moment to point out I was completely outclassed by him, and I only got lucky when he got crushed by debris?"

"Spider-Man, Spider-Man," Kamiya pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to make me an insomniac?"

"Just saying it how it is. Relying on me isn't the best backup plan."

"It's the only one we've got."

"Way to mount the pressure."

Kamiya snorted. "You're a real piece of work, aren't you?"

"Sorry if you were expecting Peter Parker and got Daiso Sangyo Spider-Man instead."

"Come on, kid, don't put yourself down. Daiso carries quality products. Anyways, this favor of yours, let me hazard a guess..."

Spider-Man nodded. "Yeah. I want to speak to Tsuchigumo. Can it be done?"

"Normally, no. But hey, 'normal' went out the window the moment people began clinging to walls," Kamiya answered. He ambled towards his desk and began jotting down on a blank piece of paper. "Tell you what. I'll make the necessary arrangements, but in exchange, I want to ask for a favor of my own."

"What is it?" Spider-Man warily asked. Moments later, Kamiya offered the paper he'd been scribbling on, a time and address written on it.

"Day after tomorrow, we'll hold a memorial for the servicemen lost that day," the captain uttered. "Please be there. Share a few words."

Spider-Man hesitantly took the scrap between his fingers. "I...I'm no good at public speaking. No good at all."

At that moment, in Kamiya's eyes, the unlikely hero looked so little. The man had to resist the urge to place a hand on Spider-Man's shoulder. "You don't have to give a grand speech. Your presence alone will provide solace and reassurance. People are more grateful for you than you may think."

Spider-Man appeared to mull over what he said. "Okay...I'll be there. One last thing, though." Striding over to the desk, Spider-Man took pen in hand. He, too, made a note on another scrap of paper.

"That a phone number? Yours?"

"You call it, I'll be able to answer here," Spider-Man confirmed while tapping at his ear.

"That's some trust you're putting in me," Kamiya said.

"It's not trust. If you were to try and trace it, you'd just waste your time," Spider-Man uttered, handing the number over. "I got my bases covered, thank you very much."

"For a Daiso Sangyo Spider-Man, you seem to know what you're doing," Kimura said. He drew a flat rectangle from his pocket and presented it to Spider-Man.

"And you'd said business cards weren't going to be present," Spider-Man quipped. He accepted the cardboard and held it between his fingers.

"Life is full of surprises," the policeman retorted.

Meanwhile, the vigilante placed a foot on the windowsill.

"Don't I know it."

With that, Spider-Man propelled himself out the open, vanishing against the inky sky. Kamiya's gaze lingered on the open window. His bare fingers rubbed against the scrap in hand, almost as if he was soaking in the paper's texture.

Having Spider-Man confront Keisuke had been a notion he'd entertained before. The prisoner had refused to cooperate thus far. Reports made clear interrogations had gone in nothing but circles. A web-slinging wild card could lead to real progress, he had thought. Yet, it had remained exactly that - an idle thought. How would the police summon Chiba's new defender, anyway? A searchlight atop the station's roof? Besides, he wasn't in charge of questioning in the first place.

How fortunate that opportunity literally came knocking, providing a good excuse to intervene.

Kamiya Yuusuke was now certain - having those two meet would prove beneficial. After all, Keisuke's account of his defeat had been completely different from Spider-Man's.

* * *

"Hey, Hach. Isn't this..."

Hachiman had arrived Echo's apartment a scant few minutes prior. With their activities concluded for the night, Tobe browsed the YouTube app on his phone.

A new upload, with a ridiculous amount of views, had caught his attention immediately.

Setting his mask aside, Hachiman peered over Tobe's shoulder. He unwittingly grimaced as he read the video's title.

"Pranking Chiba's Spider-Man Goes HORRIBLY WRONG...Almost Died...and what's with all these hashtags...?"

Tobe snorted. "Man, talk about clickbait," he said as his eyes wandered over the uploader's channel name. "Wait...waitwaitwait. They're calling themselves 'Screwball Network'? Are they for real?!" Tobe groaned.

Hachiman raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

"Screwball, man, Screwball! A minor Spidey villain! Her whole gimmick is live-streaming over the internet!"

"Uh-huh?" Hachiman muttered uninterested.

"Now I feel dirty for trying the whole comic-book-codename thing..." Tobe whimpered.

"...Really? Just now?," Hachiman sighed.

"Should've felt dirty in the first place," Echo said, returning with an ice-cold can of Yebisu in hand. "Take it from someone in the business. If it sounds like a real name, it makes for a terrible codename. So anyway," he made his way towards the boys, "what're you watching?"

"The idiot couple from earlier uploaded the whole thing to YouTube," Hachiman stated.

"From the looks of it, it's going viral," Tobe added. "Oh hey, look, pretty much everyone the comments section's taking your side on this."

Hachiman snorted derisively. "Secret identity has some extra perks. If I wasn't in costume, society would peg me as in the wrong the moment I went against a photogenic blond."

"Or maybe what they did was plain dumb, man," Tobe said. "Seems they admit to this, too - there's a second video. 'Our Apology to Spider-Man'..."

"That's nice," Hachiman said, undoing the invisible zipper running down the back of his neck. The fastener down, he worked at tucking the collar of his suit inwards.

"Aren't you going to watch it?" Tobe asked.

"Not interested. It's bound to be empty platitudes to make themselves look better," Hachiman replied. He slipped into his school shirt in front of a mirror, checking no part of his costume stuck out from underneath. "A defense against further backlash."

"You'd bet money on that, huh?" Echo slyly smirked.

"I'm not a gambler," Hachiman answered, making his way towards the exit, "but that wouldn't be a gamble. Who would say no to free cash?"

"Hah!" Echo chuckled. "Someone's certain. See you later, kid."

A dismissive wave and a door shut later, Hachiman was gone.

"What about you, Tobe?"

Tobe remained silent for a couple of seconds as if contemplating. Then, he shifted away from his chair and pocketing his phone.

"It's true. I...should get going too," he answered hesitantly, collecting his scattered belongings.

"Tobe."

The boy turned around to face Echo, uncharacteristically serious. "You never seem to want to go. Are you having trouble at home?"

Tobe shook his head, and Echo continued: "It's alright, you can tell me. I am a cop, after all."

"Trust me," Tobe uttered. "It's nothin' like that."

"...Alright," Echo ceded. "If you need someplace to stay, though, you know where the key is. At least, so long as I'm still footing the bill."

"Thanks," Tobe answered, slinging his bag over his shoulder, "but it's not what you're thinkin'."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Don't take it the wrong way," Tobe assuaged as he made his way to the exit, "but I'd rather keep to myself this time. Night."

Without waiting for a retort, he was gone. As if sleepwalking, he made his way to the nearest railway station. He got off the train three stations later. Mindless twists and turns past streets and alleys led him to his destination. He made his way inside an unassuming apartment complex.

Home.

It's often said 'home is where the heart is'. Even if this was home, Tobe usually made a conscious effort to avoid it as much as possible.

His hand hung hesitantly over the handle to the residence's entrance. Slowly, quietly, he pulled it down, hoping to prevent disturbing any of the other dwellers.

His worries were unfounded. As soon as he made it past the threshold, a woman with auburn hair cropped short gazed at him with weary eyes.

"Tobe, where have you been?"

"Ma...I've told ya, you don't need to wait up for me."

"I can't help it, sweetie," she said, unfurling arms crossed in front of her chest. She stretched them outwards in an invitation to an embrace. "I can't sleep when I know you're not home."

Tobe returned the gesture, wrapping the shorter woman around the midsection. "Ma...ya got work tomorrow, please get some rest."

"I could say the same, Tobe," Kakeru Mirai breathed into his shoulder. "You shouldn't be up and about so late. The city used to be so safe, but with all the things happening recently..."

"Mama," Tobe broke the embrace to face her, presenting a confident grin, "don't worry about it. As long as Spider-Man's out there, it'll be alright."

"Oh, Tobe..." his mother lamented, "he is but one man. He can't be everywhere at once."

"It's okay, Ma. I'll keep myself out of trouble," Tobe said, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Say...is dad asleep?"

"I think he is," Mirai answered. "You know how hard it can be to tell."

Tobe's expression took a turn for the stoic. "Yeah. I know."

His mother gently patted his cheek. "Go get ready for bed, you hear?" The woman spun on her heel and made her way to her bedroom. It was the first left in the hallway past their tiny living room and open kitchen.

Facing her room was his father's own. Tobe lingered before the door to that chamber.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, in an attempt to get rid of at least a little bit of his ever-present discomfort. He descended the hallway, trying to outrace the shame that reared its ugly head every night.

And like every other time, his attempts at escape failed him.

* * *

Showing up to the memorial service in his costume didn't sit well with Hachiman, but he lacked options. Wearing a suit jacket over the form-fitting uniform would be ridiculous. Should he invest in a different costume for formal occasions?

Pushing the thought aside, he slid his backpack under a condenser unit, located atop the roof of the hotel. With web fluid is running this low, swinging around the city was out of the question. Taking the train dressed as Spider-Man wasn't an alternative, either.

Hachiman unfurled the collar of his suit over his neck. Superhero tradition mandated his costume accommodate for concealment under plainclothes. He was nothing if not appreciative for that.

Pulling his mask down, he checked everything kept attached properly. He gave a couple of taps to the left Chelicera. "Mic test, mic test," he muttered.

"Coming in loud and clear, Spidey," Tobe's digitized voice spoke into his ear.

"You're aware you don't have to be present for this, right?" Hachiman said as he gave his web-shooters a once-over. He wouldn't be using these, but preparation costed nothing and rewarded much.

"What, and miss your speech?" Tobe radioed. "No way, man. Not in a million years."

Hachiman grunted. "I'm not looking forward to that..."

"Could've written it down," Tobe said. "I could've read it for you in case you froze or somethin'."

"...I should've thought of that." Hachiman cursed under his breath. As a loner unaccustomed to relying on others, the idea hadn't even crossed his mind.

"You did prepare something, right?"

"I was planning on improvising."

To describe that as his 'plan' was being charitable. Yet, he didn't find himself in the current situation for a lack of trying. Despite previous attempts at committing thought to paper, nothing would come to him. Spontaneity, thus, was his only recourse.

"Don't say anythin' weird to these people, all right?"

"I'm not going to pour salt in their wounds, if that's what you're thinking," Hachiman scoffed. "Who do you take me for?" He depressed a small button underneath his jaw. "Call 'Kamiya Yuusuke'."

At his behest, a ringing tone replaced his connection with Tobe. It ceased as the call picked up: "A private number? You better be who I'm thinking you are," answered Kamiya.

"Yeah, it's me," Hachiman said. "I'm right outside. It's not like I can waltz in through the front door."

"Where are you right now?"

"Rooftop."

"Of course that's where you'd be. Hold on..."

It sounded as if Kamiya was taking long strides. Hachiman then heard a door swing open, followed by some shuffling.

"There, got you a window. Fourteenth floor, right side of the building."

"Gotcha," Hachiman acknowledged. He soon crawled down the sheer surface, scanning for the promised entrance. It didn't take long for him to find it. Without second thought, he swooped in with the grace of an accomplished gymnast.

"Were you trying to show off?" Kamiya, leaning against a wall, grinned. "Sorry, but it's just me in here."

Hachiman shook his head. "I'm not very fond of people who flaunt constantly. These moves come naturally."

"That sounds like a humblebrag. Are you sure you're not trying to impress?"

"Positive."

"Anyways," Kamiya said, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers, "the event is underway. Let's get moving."

Thankfully, the halls were empty. They made their way right outside the conference hall unimpeded by awestruck witnesses. If there were things Hachiman wanted to avoid, they'd be selfies and autographs.

In front of the door closest to the podium, Kamiya turned to face his companion, "You ready for this?"

"No, but this is as ready as I'll ever be."

"You'll do fine," Kamiya reassured, eyeing his phone. "Gotta wait for the go-ahead..."

A few minutes ticked by, and with every passing moment, Hachiman felt his anxiety deepen. To say he was out of his comfort zone was putting it mildly. Little under a month ago he slipped under the radar at best, received scorn for the crime of being born at worst. Now, he was expected to address an entire crowd. If the gods of romantic comedy had been toying with him before, they'd clearly lost interest. Instead, a crueler mistress named 'Irony' had bound him in a tangled web.

In the end, though, it was what it was. Hachiman had been the one bitten by the (presumably) radioactive spider. He'd been the one to manifest comic-book superpowers. He'd achieved spectacular feats previously limited to humanity's wildest imaginings. Like any other little boy had at some point or another, he'd fantasized about being the hero. The chosen one. That special individual who would change the world. But they'd been exactly that - fantasies.

So then, how was he supposed to handle being thrust into this role? He'd decided he wanted to help - but how? Did Chiba actually need a Spider-Man? Japan had one of the lowest crime rates in the world. The services of a superhero would be better served in another nation with far more unrest. Not like he could pack his bags and set up shop elsewhere, though. A high schooler lacked such independent agency.

He was pulled from the depths of his musings by Kamiya. "It's time."

A wave of cold fear washed over Hachiman, forcing him to grit his teeth. He clenched his fists so hard he could feel his fingernails through his gloves. Nonetheless, he stepped forward, walking past the entrance Kamiya held open.

His problems evaporated in an instant.

Solemnity hung thick in the air. Hachiman had never seen so many people dressed in black.

Families stood together, holding framed photographs of men and women remembered. Always a part of their world, yet no longer present.

When they saw him enter...Hachiman heard words unsaid behind watery eyes.

 _Thank you for being here._

There was no applause when he took to the stage, and that was, he thought, for the best. As his hands tightly gripped the sides of the wooden podium, he became a single desire:

 _I must do everything I can to help these people._

His voice came to him effortlessly.

"Good day. I'm... well, I think you already know.

"Nothing that I could say would make the situation we've gathered for any less somber. I cannot imagine what any of you are going through. I cannot claim to know your pain."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "I can tell you something else, though. When I was facing the man responsible, I was terrified. I'm not going to pretend I rushed in and took him down with ease. No, he pummeled me to the ground. Badly."

Spider-Man shook his head. "You must be wondering why I'm telling you this. It's simple: I managed to make it through that day," he raised his index finger, "for one reason, and one reason alone."

He closed his eyes again - what he was about to share was a little embarrassing, and difficult to admit. "I kept thinking about the people I care about. People I want to protect, people who would suffer if they lost me that day..."

 _What a sobering thought._

He could hear some of the audience sobbing. "I managed to stand back up because I had to keep going. For them. You, too, have people who need you. Those you mourn today? They need you more than anyone. You have to press on for their sake. Live on. That's how we honor their memory."

By now, people were wailing. Hachiman persisted undeterred. "I'm just one man. I'm still trying to figure out this whole Spider-Man thing. But I can promise you one thing. I'll be there when you need me. I owe it to them, too."

With a nod towards the audience, Spider-Man muttered a soft "thank you" and stepped down from the stage. There was no clapping this time either. Nonetheless, Hachiman could perceive unspoken gratitude.

"...I never knew..." Tobe's voice came into his ear, "you were capable of saying things like that."

Hachiman's reply was brief yet poignant. "Neither did I."

He took a seat next to Kamiya, becoming a misplaced speck of red in a sea of monochrome.

The captain leaned towards him. "You know, you weren't half-bad. No need to sell yourself short."

"Thanks, I guess."

Others took to the stage. Some tear-stricken families delivered entire eulogies. Others opted to share fewer but no less poignant words in remembrance of the loved lost.

The event was nearing its end when Hachiman caught a glimpse of a familiar face atop the stage.

"I-is that..." Tobe hesitantly uttered as he too recognized the teenager on his screen.

Dispelled were any doubts when the distraught youth tapped at the podium's microphone. "Good afternoon. My name is Yasuda Yamato. Some of you might have known my brother..." he blinked away tears, attempting desperately, bravely to keep a stoic demeanor, "... my best friend, Ya-Yasuda Takuya..."

* * *

"Hey kid, what's with the brooding?"

Tobe's face had been resting on his palms for who knows how long. It escaped its voluntary prison to gaze at the newly-arrived Echo. As a policeman involved in the incident, he too had been invited to the service. The officer threw the suit jacket he'd been wearing across the nearby couch.

"Where's Hachiman?" Tobe asked, leaning back on his desk chair, the monitoring terminal in front of him closed shut.

"You weren't watching?" Echo raised an eyebrow.

"I was, at least until I saw someone I knew on the stream."

Echo dragged a dining chair, setting it down next to the distressed boy. He seated himself backward, his arms resting atop the seat. "I'll be here to talk when you're ready."

True to his word, Echo remained static as the minutes ticked by in silence.

"I'm a terrible friend," Tobe finally yielded. "Terrible, terrible friend."

"Now, now, kid," Echo said. "I'm going to need a little context if I'm going to refute that."

"What if I don't want you to?"

"Then you're still going to have to tell me. Only then can I confirm your undeniably correct and entirely objective assessment."

The corner of Tobe's lips betrayed the boy for a split second. "Where do I even start?" he asked no one in particular. his eyes darted around the room as if he were searching for an answer on the walls.

"From the beginning would be good."

"...Couple of nights ago, you asked me if I had some trouble at home," Tobe errant gaze finally settled on the floor.

"You said there wasn't any," Echo crooked his head. "So, was that true, or not?"

"No, no, there isn't...it's not what you may have thought. It's my dad. Before I started high school, he-" Tobe struggled to talk, "-he had an accident."

"...I'm sorry, kid."

"Dad was the greatest, you know? Even when tired, he always made time to play with me. We have a SEGA Saturn at home, you know? Dad got it way before I was born. We used to play it together, like, a lot."

"Tobe..."

"I'm rambling. I'm rambling, aren't I?" Tobe shook his head, struggling with the aching wounds never healed. "What I'm trying to say here is, I know what it's like to lose someone you're really close to."

Tobe reclined further into the chair, setting his hazy eyes on the ceiling above. "Yamato and I weren't truly friends at first, you know? We pretended to be, but we were just mutual friends with Hayato. Then the workplace trip happened, and we started getting along pretty well. I thought, _'yeah, this guy is my pal'_. Yet, he's absent for a few weeks and I can't even spare a thought to wonder, _'hey, where's Yamato?'_. Heck, Hayato's in the hospital too. Guess who hasn't dropped by to visit? Man, I'm pretty awful."

As much as Echo wanted to interject, he figured Tobe was not yet done venting. Sure enough, Tobe maundered on. "Yamato doesn't talk much, but when he did, it was often 'bout Takuya. Kept telling us he'd introduce us to his cop brother someday; how he was the best brother a guy could have. He must be devastated.

"I know how that feels," Tobe pointed at himself, jabbing at the air with each word. "Losing someone. I wasn't there for him. I'm the absolute worst."

Echo let out a sharp breath before narrowing his eyes. "You done?"

"No, but don't feel like going on, either."

"Okay," Echo begun, leaning in. "I might have a pretty good grasp of the situation now. I stand by my initial thought - you're being too hard on yourself."

"Or maybe you're not being hard enough."

"No, no. Listen to me, kid," Echo countered. "You've been dealing with things, too. Aren't you helping Spider-Man out?"

"If you can call what I've been doing 'helping' while Hach does most of the heavy lifting, sure."

"Stop. Stop right there. Stop being so harsh. Listen, Tobe - I'm not going to be around for much longer. I have to get back to my job, and when I do, it's you and him. He needs you."

"Does he, though? Does he really?"

Echo closed his eyes, inviting contemplation. "Tobe. In my line of work, I've seen things. Things I'm sure you'll have to bear witness to, eventually. I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Sooner or later, you two are going to face the worst humanity has to offer. But you already knew that, didn't you? Right from the start, from the moment you said you said you'd help Hachiman."

Tobe averted his gaze from the man. "...I'm not that stupid. This is the real world."

"Yet you didn't think twice to volunteer. Why?" The question Echo raised struck like a bullet piercing armor.

"Because..." Tobe took a deep breath. "...I want to help the guy who risked his life to save mine even before he had superpowers. And I...I want to do something worthwhile for once, you know?" Tobe's voice began to break and his shoulders began to tremble, "Something no one else can do. A reason for me to feel I'm not just stupid ol' Tobe, who can't do nothing right."

A hand found its way onto the boy's shaking shoulder, a gentle request for the quivering to subside. "You guys are young. Give yourself time to figure things out. Don't forget you helped stop the madman laying waste to the city, too. Your friend Yamato would appreciate that."

"...Yeah..." Tobe nodded tentatively. "Yeah, I suppose he would. Not like I'd be able to tell him, though."

"There's another downside you must've seen coming," Echo smirked, albeit warmly. "No way to take credit. Job's going to have to be its own reward, I'm afraid."

A grin all his own came over Tobe's lips. "Yeah, but that's more than enough for me."

"Okay," Echo patted the boy before breaking contact, "Good talk. So what will you do now?"

"Only thing I can," Tobe said as he retrieved his phone from his pocket. "Try ringing up Yamato. But hey, uh, back to my original question - where's Hachiman?"

* * *

"Mister Spider-Man...are we going to die?"

The lenses on Hachiman's mask widened. So much, in fact, you'd be forgiven for thinking someone glued a pair of headlights to his face. "What?! No!"

"Um, my brother told me once that if the Avengers come to visit you at the hospital, you're going to die soon..." a little boy, wrapped in blankets and wearing the teal of a hospital gown, said innocently.

 _'Geez, that's morbid. I never would've said something like that to little Komachi, that's for sure.'_

"It's only me here, though. Not the Avengers," he flipped down the colorful book he'd been reading. So far, the tale had delighted his audience, children aged in the single digits. "Okay, yeah, the story is about the Avengers, but don't read too much into it. Now, where was I?" he lifted the book back up. "' _Tony, he's going for the Thanos-Copter!'_ Captain America yelled. _'I'll go after him!'_ Iron Man said."

"Do you know Iron Man?" Another boy asked sweetly.

"Who, Tony? Yeah, great guy," Hachiman played along. "Want to see something he built for me?"

"Yeah!" A chorus of excited little voices sang in unison.

"Okay..." It was time to sell his fib. The turn of a dial, and the click of a button - that's all it took. Red light projected onto the wall opposing him, displaying the Spider-Signal.

"Cool!" A girl exclaimed with a toothy smile, wonderment swelling within the other children.

Then there was a knock on the door behind him, and an older doctor walked in. Behind square-rimmed glasses hid a pair of kindly eyes. Despite heavy bags hanging underneath, they brimmed with warmth. His finely-trimmed beard, mostly white, matched his receding hairline. Regardless of his age, he carried himself with a dignified bearing and pep to his step.

"Now, children, we've imposed quite a bit on Spider-Man," said Takeda Takeru, Medical Doctor. "Now, say goodbye and 'thank you' to our friend."

"Thank You, Mister Spider-Man!"

"See you, Spidey!"

"Come visit again soon!"

Rather awkwardly, Hachiman flashed a thumbs up as he stood up and set the storybook aside. Following Doctor Takeda, he exited the room, and once he'd set foot on the hallway, the older man gave him a small bow.

"Thank you, Spider-Man. You've done a world of good for these boys and girls."

"R-right, no problem, Director Takeda."

The physician wasn't exactly a stranger to Hachiman. He'd met him before, as a result of the traffic accident where he'd prevented Yui's dog Sablé from being run over. During his stay, the amiable hospital director had visited the convalescing Hachiman. The boy's reticent manner, though, resulted in sparse conversation.

After the memorial had concluded, Doctor Takeda had approached Spider-Man with a peculiar request.

 _"I know you must be busy, but could you perhaps spare some time to visit the children injured in the incident? They're dealing with a lot. I'm sure they would be delighted to see you. You're their hero, after all"_. Those had been the director's words.

He did not deliberate for long. Still searching for the best ways Spider-Man could help, Hachiman agreed to drop by immediately.

"I'll visit again," Spider-Man said.

"We'll be looking forward to it, young man," the good doctor replied. "Be seeing you."

With a wave, Hachiman turned the corner. He had spotted a vending machine earlier, and he could go for some MAX Coffee. He'd secure his beverage, gulp it down, and slip back to the hotel to retrieve his belongings.

 _'It's a good thing I've decided to keep some spare change on the cartridge pocket,'_ he thought. He gathered the loose coins necessary to claim ownership of sweet caffeine nectar. A few key presses later, a perspiring aluminum can dropped into the compartment.

Refreshment now in hand, Hachiman pulled at the tab on top with that satisfying pop drink cans tend to make. He rolled up his mask just above his lips, and brought the can's aperture to them. Cold liquid soon invaded his throat.

"Yamato?"

A female voice called, interfering with the blissful enjoyment of his favorite concoction. The voice itself... he recognized it from somewhere. Were they addressing him? Why as 'Yamato', though?

He turned around sluggishly.

Standing behind him? Miura Yumiko.

He cocked his head to the side as he felt his eyepieces shift. With the addition of a shrug of his shoulders, he expressed puzzlement.

"...Sorry, I thought you could be...N-nevermind! It's good to see you again, Spider-Man."

He gave her a small nod before taking another swig. In truth, he was evaluating the situation.

 _'Should I roll my mask down so it muffles my voice? But reaching for it before talking might make her suspicious instead...'_

"I wasn't able to thank you properly before."

 _'Wait, I'm overthinking this. Miura is too apathetic towards me to ever make the Spider-Man connection. She might be relying on me to fulfill her Service Club requests, but she can't be too happy about that. From her perspective, the notion I could be Spider-Man would be insane.'_

"Just doing my job," he answered, having made his decision: to play it cool. He took another swig of his MAX Coffee. Had he not, he would've noticed a small twitch between Yumiko's eyebrows.

"So, are you here visiting someone?" Yumiko asked, shifting her head ever so slightly.

"Kids," he said, a small yet sharp sneer creeping onto his lips. "One of them must've thought I was with the Make-A-Wish Foundation or something, asked me if they were dying."

Yumiko frowned. "Damn, that's grim."

"Yeah. Thankfully, they'll be alright. They're in good hands," Spider-Man added before finishing the contents of the can. He dropped the container in the corresponding trash bin nearby.

"Say, Spider-Man?" Yumiko said, uncharacteristically sheepish, as he pulled his mask down. "Could I ask for a favor?"

"I don't do autographs, Yoriko."

"It's _Yumiko_. Eh, close enough, I guess. Anyway, it's nothing like that. It's about my...friend."

Hachiman sighed. Guess he'd go Service Clubbin' it in a different uniform today. "Let's hear it."

* * *

"...Takanawa Minoru's first time in a serious leading role has proven to be a dud, with new drama film 'Student Council Days' under-performing..."

The variety show droned on, but Hayama Hayato could not hear it. He kept staring at his left leg, trapped within heavy cast held aloft by a pulley. It extended from his thigh all the way down, exposing only his toes. His damaged limb was itchy, cramped, and hot, even with air conditioning set as low as it could go.

He'd been in the hospital for days, yet he still kept reliving that moment over and over in his head. Trapped, like his leg in the cast. Bleeding. Dying, or at least it felt like it.

There was a knock on the door. Hayato mouthed "come in" as he flicked the television off, his mind still under that rubble from that day. Let the nurses, or the doctors, or Yumiko come in. It didn't matter. Nobody could rescue him from a coffin fashioned out of debris.

Except for one person, that is.

The vibrant red accompanied by jet black commanded immediate attention. Hayato had to blink once, twice, thrice - and then he lost count.

"Spider...Man?"

"Yo. Yumeka here tells me you're stuck in a funk."

"It's _Yumiko_ ," the girl deadpanned displeased.

"What...why...?" Hayato could scarce believe his eyes. Why would Spider-Man be here?

"Seems I'm well on my way into the hospital's payroll," Spider-Man said, "as a grief counselor. _Ow!_ "

"He was around," Yumiko remarked as she withdrew her elbow from Spider-Man's ribs. "I thought it might be good for you to talk about things?"

"...Whatever gave you that idea?" Hayato asked, averting his gaze from the visiting duo.

"Hayato..." he could feel the caring caress in Yumiko's plea.

"...Alright," Hayato conceded, for her sake. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"I'll leave you two to talk it out, then," Yumiko said as she closed the door behind her. Spider-Man stood there, motionless, for what felt like hours.

"So..." Spider-Man finally killed the silence.

"So," Hayato parroted.

"...How's the leg?" Spider-Man said, crossing his arms. He edged closer to the bed, gesturing with his chin at the immobile extremity.

"It'll manage," Hayato replied.

"It was pretty bad," Spider-Man added.

"Yeah. Thank you for preventing Yumiko from seeing it back then, by the way."

"You care about her, huh," Spider-Man asserted.

"Yeah? I mean...of course I care about Yumiko. Just... not the way she'd want me to."

"Sounds rough."

"Well..." Hayato frowned. "I think..." he exhaled, whatever he was bound to say snuffed out.

"What was that?"

"It's nothing," Hayato shook his head.

"Didn't sound like nothing," Spider-Man commented. Awkward quiet followed. Hayato's eyes shifted away from the visitor. He didn't want Spider-Man to know how callous Hayama Hayato could be. For the first time, his own duplicity filled him with shame.

Once again, it fell on Spider-Man's shoulders to break the ice. "So, when it's coming off? The cast, I mean."

"Still has a way to go. Then there's the physical therapy. I'll walk again, but the doctor warned me to stay away from soccer from here on out. I used to be the club's captain, you know?"

"Sorry to hear that," Spider-Man comforted.

"...Would it be strange to say...I'm relieved?"

The statement earned Hayato a demonstration of how expressive Spider-Man's mask could be. Confusion was plastered on its cobweb-patterned features.

"I don't like soccer," Hayato begun, staring back down at his leg. "Or rather, I did, a long, long time ago. Turns out I was good. Very good. People kept saying it would be a shame if I didn't foster the talent. So I did, and I lost my enthusiasm with it. But now, I'm free of that."

He could tell Spider-Man was scowling at him. His shame grew. "...Sorry. Guess my true colors came out anyways. I'm pretty pathetic, aren't I?"

Spider-Man said nothing. He kept staring instead.

"...When I was a child, I used to watch a lot of Kamen Rider reruns. My favorite was Kamen Rider 2. You know, Ichimonji Hayato? Same name as me; that was enough for me to like him. I wanted to be strong and brave, like that Hayato. Like a hero. But I wasn't. I'm not. Even when she needed me, I looked the other way, and pretended nothing was wrong."

Hayato's gaze was firmly planted in his encased limb. He wouldn't notice Spider-Man's eyes shifting to narrow slits.

"...How do you do it?" the confessor inquired. "Being a superhero, I mean."

"I'd be lying if I told you I knew what I was doing. I don't," Spider-Man admitted, allowing his steely glare to relax. "I'm just a guy who got bitten by a spider-"

"Wait, hold on. You were bitten by a _radioactive spider_?!" Hayato interrupted. So taken aback was he by the revelation, the question exploded out his mouth.

"...I don't know about the _'radioactive'_ part, but yes," Spider-Man admitted, shrugging. "Same as Peter Parker."

"Huh. Fact truly is stranger than fiction," Hayato remarked, rubbing at his temple.

"As I was saying," Spider-Man renewed, "I'm just a guy. Don't expect me to impart sage knowledge."

Hayato sighed, plopping back against his pillow, hands entwined behind his head. "I can't help but wonder...where did I go so wrong? Before you rescued me from under that wreckage, I was scared, sure - but more than anything, I felt...regret. Like, there are so many things I wish I'd done differently. So many, I can't even recall all of them, but I can **feel** them. All my life, I've been doing nothing but conforming to the expectations of others."

"You survived, though. So hey, live your own damn life if you feel you've been wasting it," Spider-Man protested.

"That's the thing," Hayato smiled sadly, bitterly, utterly resigned. "I don't know how."

"Oh, give me a break," Spider-Man pinched where the bridge of his nose should be. "Did you hear anything I said?"

"Eh?"

Spider-Man gestured to himself, exasperated. "I told you I had no idea what the hell I'm doing, but you know what? I'm still doing it. If I can run into burning buildings in nothing but tights, you can at the very least **try** to get your act together. So spare me the pity party. You're not getting any from me."

Hayato was paralyzed in utter disbelief, absolutely disarmed. Unsure of how to react, he let instinct take over.

Instinct decided to chuckle.

Spider-Man stared on inquisitively.

"Sorry, sorry," Hayato said as his sudden laughter died down. "It's funny; you reminded me of this classmate of mine. He's ruthless, but he's a good guy. I can't stand him, though."

"That so? Guess you might not like me very much, either."

Hayato grinned, the storm within clearing somewhat. "You saved my life, though. Pretty sure it'd be illegal for me to dislike you."

"You do you," Spider-Man said as he slid open a window and placed his foot on the sill. "That's the only advice I'm giving out today."

"...The window? Seriously? Showoff."

"If I walked past the front door, people like Yukako would stop me for some reason or another."

"It's _Yumiko_ ," Hayato corrected with a smirk. "Man, some superhero you are."

"Told you I was still figuring this gig out," Spider-Man said. He sat on the windowsill, his back leaning against the jamb. "So, better?"

Hayato nodded, his spirits somewhat lifted. "Better."

"All right then. Let Yukari know my work here is done. I've got an appointment."

Before Hayato could inquire whether his misnaming was on purpose, Spider-Man had vanished.

"...Good talk." Hayato mouthed to himself, and no one else.

* * *

After retrieving his belongings, it took Hachiman thirty minutes to reach his destination. Having changed back to his civvies, he entered comfortable, affordable, delicious Saizeriya.

He ordered Spaghetti Carbonara and reviewed his objectives in his head. The mission was simple in concept, complex in execution. Somehow, he'd have to dig for clues in his confrontation with Tsuchigumo. Anything that might give them an idea of how to fabricate web fluid could prove useful.

Such an undertaking would prove a challenge. There wouldn't be any voices speaking into his ear suggesting ideas, either. Kamiya had mentioned there was no cell phone reception in the area. No reception, no transmission. It's a good thing the Chelicera's camera could also record video to onboard memory.

All Hachiman had to do now was kill some time and wait for the appointed hour. He ate slowly, fiddling with his phone between bites. It had become a habit of his to refresh his news app often, ever since the Prism Tower incident.

His thoughts strayed back to when he met Yukino for the first time following the disaster. She'd been sitting on the same chair as always, at the same corner of the table as always, reading like always.

She didn't talk much about the incident. She did speak about how both her father and Haruno were in good health. Her unsentimental delivery had been betrayed by a soft smile hiding at the edge of her lips.

Hachiman's unwittingly mirrored the expression of the girl captive in his memory.

Having finished his meal, he took a glance at the time on his phone. It would be eight soon. He'd be meeting Kamiya at nine. He groaned, for all that he could do now was wait, and wait he did.

At some point, he recognized a classmate dining a few tables away, next to a little girl he also knew. It was Kawa...Kawakami...Kawa-something?

With Miura, his misnaming had been intentional, but when it came to "Black Lace", he really did forget. This wasn't the first time, either. Maybe he should write it down?

The two eventually departed without taking notice of him. Time kept advancing at a mind-numbing snail's pace. With nothing else to do, Hachiman caught up with a mobile game before its stamina system forced him to stop.

It was still not the appointed hour. To keep himself loitering without ordering anything, he requested another MAX Coffee. Good thing caffeine didn't make him jittery.

It was eight thirty-six. A quick bathroom break later, he was ready to depart towards the meeting point. Hachiman slung his backpack over his shoulder. He pushed the restaurant's door open and was about to cross the threshold.

His Spider-Sense warned him not to take another step.

Thankfully, the danger was as minor as minor could be: a teenage girl almost bumped into him. She was engrossed in her phone, completely unaware of her surroundings. She had short black hair in a pixie cut, two thin barrettes keeping her bangs from falling over her face. He knew her. She was someone who brought back unpleasant memories for Hachiman.

He'd been dragged on a double date by the same guy he'd visited at the hospital hours before. Hayama practically begged him to. Hachiman still refused. Then Yukinoshita Haruno got involved, and Hachiman had to tag along if he wanted to live. Both of them ended up going out with a pair of girls from Kaihin Sougou High School. One was Orimoto Kaori, a former classmate of his and source of memories far more bitter. The other girl was the ambulant texter who had almost smashed into him. Her name eluded Hachiman too, but in this case, he was uninterested in remembering

The date itself was awkward. Both girls had been all over Hayama and put Hachiman down every chance they had. That date concluded with Hayama telling them off for it. It had not been an intervention Hachiman felt particularly thankful for. He'd told Hayama earlier that he wouldn't be getting any pity from him. He didn't want Hayama's pity, either. Besides, Hayama had even admitted he intervened for his own personal reasons.

Perhaps there had been other dimensions to Hayama Hayato's actions. With what he'd learned today, that was a distinct possibility. Too bad Hachiman didn't care at all.

Ducking into a deserted back alley, Hachiman quickly pulled his mask down over his face. He then removed his shoes, throwing them into his backpack. His suit's gloves came on next He already wore his web shooters, devices hidden under his sleeves. Crawling to the top of a building a few stories tall, he removed the rest of his outerwear. First, the scarf, then the overcoat, and ultimately his pants were stowed into his backpack. Making a mental note of the location, he leaped towards another, shorter building. He continued moving like that: high above, always unseen and avoiding notice. After all, his amazing skill, Stealth Hikki, had leveled up in the presence of his new powers. It was now worthy of a new name. Yes, henceforth it would be christened _Stealth Spider_.

...Yes, his mind had wandered towards naming conventions as he overlooked another back alley. At the bottom, a black Honda SUV would be retrieving him soon. In his defense, his position hardly presented a riveting view to soak in.

Come to think of it, calling out moves could help him entertain the children if - no, _when_ \- he visited them again. He could yell something like " _Web Swing!_ " or " _Spider Sting!_ " with enough pizazz to wow them a little. Wait, where did those names come from? Oh, right. Many years ago, he tried an arcade game featuring Spider-Man, and he yelled out those attacks. He'd only have the chance to experiment with it when the arcade was near empty. As a result, he had never gotten to play it much. Fighting game cabinets always had players waiting to clash against one another. Even an old game like that one drew a crowd of challengers. For a loner like Hachiman, that was anathema.

"Incoming call...from...Ka-miya...Yuu-suke," an artificial inflection stuttered into his ear. It belonged to a bare-bones digital assistant. It was a handy feature for his uniform, allowing him to send and receive calls without the need for dialing.

Hachiman tapped a button at the side of the left projection running along his jawline. "Come in."

"I'm almost there, be ready to get in"

Scant few moments later, the alleyway shone under the glow of a set of headlights. Wasting no time at all, Hachiman jumped down from the roof. He stopped his descent by grabbing onto a ledge and let go again. He kicked at another ledge further down, and flipped over the car, landing in a crouch next to the passenger seat.

"Practicing for next year's Olympics?" Kamiya joked as Hachiman opened the door.

"Only a matter of time before I receive an invitation," Spider-Man fired back. He fastened his seatbelt, and the vehicle began to inch forward. They were on their way.

"So, did you hear?" Kamiya began, eyes firmly set on the road. "The memorial's organizational committee uploaded video recordings to the internet. You should check the comments sometime."

Spider-Man's eyes contracted dangerously. "We were being filmed?"

"It's the twenty-first century. Always assume you're in view of a camera."

Hachiman grunted, propping his arm against the window. He rested his cheek on his clenched fist, watching buildings pass them by faster and faster. What Kamiya said was true; hell, he was carrying an active camera on his suit right now. Thankfully, his Spider-Sense interpreted exposure of his identity as a 'threat'. It gave him a measure of certainty he wouldn't unmask in the presence of surveillance.

One of the perks of the loner lifestyle was blending into the background. When he was Spider-Man, however, his presence demanded attention wherever he went. He had to admit: the ability to elude notice had been one the first casualties his double life claimed. Thankfully, it was a consequence restricted exclusively to his alter ego.

Gazing at the masquerading reflection on glass, he lamented the loss of inconspicuousness. The image of a relieved Yukinoshita Yukino reinforced the worth of his sacrifice.

He'd been thinking a lot about her recently. Perhaps Hayama hadn't been the only one affected by his brush with death...

"I didn't ask for this," Hachiman said. "I don't want to be some celebrity or... a sideshow for people to gawk over."

"That's not what it is," Kamiya refuted. "During the attack, when footage of Ke-," he stuttered, "-Tsuchigumo leaked, everything changed. Superpowers are a real thing now. I won't lie to you: it frightens me. One day I might have to lead my boys into a fight with some psycho that can shoot lasers out of their hands, or something. We've lost too many good guys as is."

They were out of Chiba City by now, tall buildings nowhere in sight. Kamiya gripped the steering wheel tighter, Hachiman could tell.

"Listen, I was JSDF before I was police. I'm no stranger to danger. Yet, when I heard we were mobilizing to apprehend a guy who could lug around cars? Yeah, I was more scared than I'd ever been in my life. We weren't heading into combat, but **slaughter**."

Kamiya's lip tugged upwards. "Then, the craziest thing happened. Our dispatcher started cheering and hollering. I thought he must've lost his mind. But he hadn't. That's when he tried to explain **_Spider-Man_ **had saved fellow cops from being torn to shreds. After the disbelief wore off, we knew we were going to make it. That's all thanks to you. You did that. You cut off the noose around our necks."

"You make it sound heroic, but I ran away when I first saw what was going on," Hachiman admitted, gesturing with his hand. "I didn't want to be involved."

"Doesn't matter. You came back, didn't you?" Kamiya pointed out.

"I had to."

"Why?"

"I couldn't live with myself otherwise," Hachiman admitted.

"So you're saying, with great power..."

Hachiman pointed at the driver with his finger. " **Don't.** Don't you say it."

Kamiya's grin grew wider. "Sore spot?"

"Not particularly, but I want to make one thing clear. I might be _Spider-Man_ , but I'm not Peter Parker."

"You said as much the other night."

"It bears repeating."

"I don't think anybody expects you to be," Kamiya said. "Regardless, back to what I was getting at. You're giving Chiba, no, the world something it desperately needed: _reassurance_. Life may change so quickly it might be overwhelming, but superpowers being real? That's something nobody was ready for. We're entering uncharted waters, here.

"You adopting the identity of 'Spider-Man' is far more important than you might realize. It's a beacon, lighting the way in these turbulent times. Even if people don't know who's behind the mask, that you wear it in the first place makes them believe they can trust you. It's a symbol that means a great deal to so many, and you're adding to that. So, shine on, you crazy diamond."

For a moment, a stillness settled within the vehicle's cabin. The highway continued to spread endlessly in front of them, undeterred. Finally, Hachiman broke the quiet with a snort.

"Did you stay up all night thinking that last bit up? And did you seriously make a JoJo reference at the end there?"

"Hey, I wasn't referring to the Stand...have you never listened to Pink Floyd?"

"Can't say I have."

"That's criminal. I ought to arrest you for that," Kamiya uttered in mock-disappointment. "Let's spare you the trial and move straight to rehabilitation." The policeman pressed at the touchscreen jutting from the dashboard. Soon enough, an ominous melody gradually building up filled the cabin.

"This is an abuse of authority," Hachiman protested. "I demand respect for due process."

"It isn't! We're operating under the 'my car, my tunes' rule. Now listen! This is good stuff!"

An ethereal guitar arose from the melody, its chords as mournful as an elegy, as hopeful as a newborn babe. The music later wound down as another set of strings delivered powerful melancholy. Soon after, the composition regained its energy again, without losing its saturnine quality.

Neither rider said anything as the song played on. After several minutes of a soul-rending instrumental, vocals emerged from the track.

" _Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun/_

 _Shine on you crazy diamond/_

 _Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky._

 _Shine on you crazy diamond/_

 _You were caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom, blown on the steel breeze/_

 _Come on you target for faraway laughter, come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!_ "

The haunting anthem carried on, making for a surreal drive. Kamiya took a right off onto a beaten path, the dirt underneath making the ride a bit bumpier from then on out.

It wasn't long before they reached a boom barrier, blocking the entrance to an enclosure. The perimeter was surrounded in chain-link and topped with barbed wire. A guardhouse flanked the security checkpoint, and its occupant peeked out its side.

"Captain," the sentry acknowledged as the driver's window rolled down. The man's eyes widened. "...and, one visitor?"

"Evening, Kikaoka. Let us through?"

"C-certainly. Oh man, if only I could tell my kids..."

The bar rose, granting passage to the motorized vehicle. An expression of gratitude from Kamiya preceded the vehicle passing through.

They drove a couple hundred meters across plain concrete slab. There were no other landmarks visible sans for a tunnel on a nearby mound. Two heavy steel gates parted from its opening. They revealed asphalt slanting downwards, towards the unknown.

"So, how do you like it?" Kamiya asked, gesturing with his head towards the radio. "They don't make music like they used to."

"It's alright," Hachiman answered dryly.

 _'I actually kinda like it, but I'm not going to give you the satisfaction.'_

"Just alright?" Kamiya snorted derisively. "Come on, it's a classic!"

"I'll admit I wish I understood what the lyrics were saying."

"You're hung up about two minutes worth of lyrics in a thirteen-minute song?"

Hachiman shrugged. "I'm nothing if not curious."

They strode past the gates and descended past the maw of the metaphorical beast. Dull orange lights blanketed the young wonder and his escort in an eerie glow. The car's stereo system continued to sing undeterred. The next track on the disc had already replaced Kamiya's former selection. The unrelenting sensory assault made for an otherworldly scene.

Eventually, they reached what appeared to be a parking lot. One would expect military hardware in an installation this secretive. Instead, there resided an assortment of civilian vehicles. The sole exception was a single heavily-armored van, belonging to Chiba's SAT unit.

The SUV came to a complete stop after Kamiya maneuvered it between two other cars. "Follow me."

Hachiman did, tailing behind Kamiya as they advanced towards an enormous blast door. The bottom edge of the barrier displayed a band of yellow and black diagonal stripes, the international motif for caution.

Kamiya placed his hand on a panel to its right, and the steel structure began to ascend into the wall. An identical door revealed itself, and it too began to rise without waiting for the former to finish. Yet another gate followed that one, also rising. A fourth door finally allowed light to escape from a stark hallway behind the array of barriers.

"Best we could do on short notice to lock up a guy with super-strength," Kamiya said, "was confining him in this bunker."

"What is this place?" Hachiman asked, curious from the sheer size of the location so far.

"The growing tensions during the Cold War made the Japanese government nervous. Even if Japan wasn't directly involved, the fear of nuclear warfare was always present. It led the construction of facilities like these in every prefecture," Kamiya affirmed. "A contingency to ensure the chain of command of every local government could persist."

"So, a place to keep their own hides safe, huh?"

Kamiya shrugged. "I suppose there's that too, but preserving hierarchy would prevent confusion during a crisis. In any case, welcome to PIER 12."

"PIER? Is that English?" Hachiman inquired. Recalling his wealth of trivia, he assumed the '12' was for JP-12, which denoted Chiba Prefecture.

"It is, but in this case, it's an acronym. Prefectural Independent Emergency Refuge," Kamiya recited, with the affectation of a native speaker. "but since you probably don't know what that means either, we've taken to calling it _'Jaburo'_."

The shifting of his eyepiece indicated Hachiman had cocked an eyebrow underneath. "Jaburo? Really? Are we hiding from Zeon?"

Kamiya smirked. "There's hope for you yet."

The hallway led to a spacious cargo elevator overlooking an angled slope. The platform ramped downwards on rails, descending even deeper underground. It took about an entire minute for the elevator to finish the journey. At the destination awaited a group of armed guards. Eight in total, they stood side-by-side in two parallel files facing each other.

"Sir!" the officers saluted as Hachiman and Kamiya walked by, between both rows. Leaving the officers behind, the duo made their way to an automatic metal door. It split in two, granting them passage. Having crossed, it closed behind them, leaving them alone once more.

"Guess you run a tight ship," Hachiman commented, his gaze lingering over his shoulder at the doors now shut.

"I do," Kamiya admitted, "but not when it comes to greetings."

"Meaning?"

"I wasn't the one they were saluting."

"...Huh," Hachiman scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly.

They kept walking, navigating through hallways and traversing doors. They descended another set of stairs and reached another set of sturdy double doors. This time, Kamiya's input on the side panel did not unlock it - rather, he spoke into a camera.

"Susumu, it's me."

With a mechanical hiss, the path was open.

It led to what Hachiman assumed to be a surveillance room. It was filled with all manner of assorted equipment and grouped monitors. A man with spiky hair sat next to one of the larger screens. He dressed far more casually than the rest of the skeleton crew staffing the facility. A set of crutches leaned against the console he operated. Also, a neck brace jutted out from his t-shirt's collar. These items explained to Hachiman why he'd be clothed lighter. There was also something about the guard he could recognize from somewhere...

After a bit of the shock present in his face wore off, the guard spoke. "When you said you were bringing someone in to aid in interrogation, I didn't imagine it'd be **Spider-Man**!" He shuffled to his feet with some strain. Taking one of his crutches under his shoulder, he hobbled towards Hachiman.

The man stretched out his free hand and Hachiman hesitantly took it in his own. Now that he stood closer, Hachiman could identify him. The first and only time he'd seen this officer before, Spider-Man had stopped a falling chopper.

"You...you're that wounded cop, from the Cineplex."

"You really saved me back then, Spider-Man," the guard smiled. "I wouldn't be alive if not for you. My name is Kitaoka Susumu. It's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you for real."

"Uh, right..." Hachiman answered a little overwhelmed, unaccustomed to such effervescent introductions. "Glad to see you're doing well."

"How's our prisoner doing?" Kamiya inquired, attempting to steal a glance at one of the monitors.

"Same as always. Sitting there, menacingly," Susumu answered. "By that I mean all he does is watch TV."

"...so you're guarding the guy who almost killed you?" Hachiman asked. "Isn't it...difficult?

"I requested it," Susumu answered. "Not like I'm ever going to be fit for active duty again. It's all desk jobs from here. If that's how it is, might as well make sure this bastard doesn't go anywhere. Plus, frankly? I want him to try something. Then, I can see how he fares against an electrified cell and a hearty helping of sleeping gas."

 _'I suppose being somewhat vindictive is only to be expected,'_ Hachiman thought.

"Back to business," Kamiya interjected, "Let's have our talk."

Susumu limped back to his chair, typed up some commands on his keyboard, and pressed a button on his left. Immediately, Hachiman realized the walls behind the equipment weren't what he'd thought. No, those were shutters, and they were shifting upwards. On the other side of the shutters, through protective glass, a human silhouette lay.

Sprawled indignantly across hard bedding rested the resident of many of Hachiman's nightmares. His once neatly-slicked hair was now a wild, unkempt, haphazard mess. A shaggy beard matched his savage mop. He wore nothing but some teal pants made of light, breezy fabric, opting once more to forgo a shirt.

His spartan accommodation had been latticed in slick white tiles. The cell's only furnishings were the bed he lied on and the television affixed to the left wall. Near the far-right corner of the room, a showerhead overlooked a waist-high partition. Hachiman assumed the division existed to protect some measure of privacy.

Tsuchigumo clicked the television off with the remote he held. He lazily shifted on his side, facing the surveillance room. "What do you want this ti- _ **oh?!**_ "

As if regaining lost vigor, he was on his feet, and every step Tsuchigumo took closer to the glass made Hachiman's heart hammer in his chest faster and faster...

" **STOP!** " Susumu ordered, his hand hovering a different button from before. "We can hear you just fine from where you were. Another step and you know what's coming."

"...Okay, okay," Tsuchigumo raised his hands to placate his jailer as he walked backward. "I'm not looking for trouble. I only wanted a closer look."

"And I'm dating Sheena Ringo," Susumu spat.

"She's pretty hot," Tsuchigumo smirked, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "but don't you think she's a bit too old for you?"

"Fine wine gets better with age, and so do women!" Susumu delivered.

 _'...Yes, hello, Professor Hiratsuka? There's someone I'd like you to meet,'_ as if to preserve his composure, Hachiman's mind wandered.

" _ **Ahem,**_ " Captain Kamiya cleared his throat loudly, bringing an end to that exchange.

"Oh, hey, Yuu. Didn't see you there," Tsuchigumo sneered. "And look what the cat dragged in! Spider-Boy, as I live and breathe! Knew it was only a matter of time 'till you'd visit."

"...Yuu?" Hachiman inquired, facing the officer.

"Oh, he didn't tell you? I go way back with your favorite Chiba cop."

Kamiya sighed. "That was a lifetime ago, back before this guy became a murdering scumbag."

"Yuu! You're tearing me apart, Yuu! That's no way to speak of your former commanding officer!" Tsuchigumo brought both hands to the middle of his chest, in a mocking gesture of hurt.

"...The Kimura Keisuke I knew was an admirable JSDF lieutenant who led by example. He would've never become yakuza trash."

"Wait, so you two **do** know each other?" Hachiman sputtered in disbelief. "Isn't that a conflict of interest?!"

"Kid, the reason they got him to play warden is precisely because we know each other," Tsuchigumo argued. "A deterrent to keep me from any funny business. Joke's on the brass, I wasn't going to pull any stunts even if an old friend wasn't involved."

"We're not _friends_ ," Kamiya angrily glared. "Friends of mine don't kill cops."

Tsuchigumo's shoulders sunk as he sighed. "Yeah, I suppose they don't."

Was that guilt in his voice? Hachiman shook his head. No, no sympathy for the devil. Even so, the moment ordnance struck the Souk Building came back to him. The recollection prompted him to raise a question: "Back then... when the building came down on us both. You pushed me out of the way, to a safer spot. Why?"

Tsuchigumo turned his head to the side, then down towards his bare feet. He shut his eyes, bit his lip, and ran a hand through his restless face. "...I saw. You were just a kid. I don't hurt kids."

Hachiman's apprehension gave way to boundless ire. The children in the hospital came back to him. "...You don't hurt kids?! How rich. Do you know how many children lost parents, brothers, and people they cared about? How many were injured? Cut the **bullshit** , you've hurt plenty of kids!"

He had to make a conscious effort not to strike something with his clenched, shaking fist.

"...I know that..." Tsuchigumo answered in a voice so small it ill fit such large a man. "This isn't what I wanted. I wanted to be...to be like you. Someone who kept everyone safe."

"Safe from _**what?!**_ " Hachiman snapped wrathfully, taking a step forward. He was dangerously close to breaking the crystal divide and pummeling the captive. "From you?!"

Such fury led to Hachiman missing the trembling of Tsuchigumo's lower jaw. "...My intentions don't matter anymore. What's done is done, and I can't undo it. The end result is the same. I'll patiently wait for my execution. That's all I can do now."

"Cut the sanctimonious crap, you **butcher**!" Hachiman cried. A hand fell on his shoulder and forgetting himself, he was about ready to tear apart whoever touched him.

"That's enough, Spider-Man. Cool down a bit; you're here for a reason, aren't you?" Kamiya eased the fuming web-slinger. The explosion of aggression slowly faded into a colder, bitter edge.

"...Yes, if the kid's here," Tsuchigumo interjected, "I'm willing to share the information you need, Yuu. For a price."

"First, don't call me that," Kamiya sternly objected, turning from the boy to the inmate. "Second, you're in no position to make demands."

"You'll find my price agreeable. It's simple, I'll tell you what you need to know. In exchange, you turn off the recording equipment while I share the information. That's all there is to it."

"...What's your game?" Susumu growled.

"Oh, please. If I were to try anything, would it be with Spider-Boy here?" Tsuchigumo rolled his eyes, a semblance of his uppity attitude from before reemerging. "I want a little bit of privacy while saying my piece. That's all."

Kamiya dwelt on the offer for a little while, before reluctantly muttering "Do it". At his command, Susumu let out a sharp breath and began to type, dramatically clacking the enter key at the end.

"It's done," he announced.

"It isn't." Tsuchigumo refuted.

Susumu blinked. "...Say what?"

"You can't fool me. I can feel the surveillance equipment. It's firing up my threat detector, ya see?"

"You're bluffing." Kamiya said, bewildered. "The lights on the cameras are off, see?"

Hachiman groaned. "He's not bluffing. Spider-Sense is a thing we have."

"Wait, for real?" Susumu jerked his head in surprise.

Hachiman nodded. "If he considers 'being recorded' a potential threat, it'll warn him alright."

Kamiya's frown reflected his displeasure. "No choice, then. Susumu, we're forced to comply. Disable audio recording as well."

Susumu was clearly unhappy. "...You're the boss, boss. I'm putting the microphones in pass-through mode."

Once Susumu finished, Tsuchigumo gestured at the occupants of the security room. "Yeah, we're good now. Wasn't so hard, was it?"

Susumu muttered some unflattering expletives under his breath. Hachiman felt tempted to join in.

"Now, talk," Kamiya ordered, his patience also running short.

"Straight to the point, eh, Yuu? No reminiscing about the good old days now that we're off the record?"

"No."

"Figures," Tsuchigumo brought his palms together. "If you're not going to capitalize on it, I will. Time for my real demand."

"Why you-" It was now Kamiya's turn to seethe.

"Let me finish. Kid, I have a pretty good idea why you're here. I said I was expecting you, didn't I?" Tsuchigumo gestured at Spider-Man.

"...That so?" Hachiman replied, growing more frustrated with the prisoner's antics by the minute.

"You're here because you're running low on webs, aren't you? _Ah ha!_ Your face tells me I'm right!"

 _'Damn it, Echo,'_ Hachiman mused. _'Your emoting eyepieces are going to force me to practice my poker face.'_

"So here's how it's gonna be: a win-win for everyone involved. Yuu, I'm going to give you a location with several physical documents and a portable hard disk. It has all the contacts and incriminating evidence you could want. Enough material to put a lot of people from all across Japan away for a long, long time. Now, there's a flash drive mixed with those. It's red and blue, can't miss it. Drive has what he needs," he pointed at Hachiman. "My asking price is he gets to keep the drive."

Hachiman's eyes widened in shock. "Wait, what? What's in it for you?"

Tsuchigumo's gaze softened. "Listen, kid. I'm not going to ask me to believe me when I say I wasn't myself back then. Road to hell's paved with good intentions, and all that. What I can tell you is this: you won't be able to do this alone. Even Spider-Man's gotta rely on others. I can see you've got some stellar guys on your corner," he waved his hand in Kamiya and Susumu's general direction. "Even so, you might need a hand from a real bastard every once in a while."

A distrusting Hachiman frowned beneath cloth. Tsuchigumo's offer for unconditional aid perturbed him, as it should. Yet, web fluid was the reason he was here in the first place. He had to capitalize. He had to accept, and deal with consequences as they came.

With a sigh, Hachiman addressed Kamiya. "I hate the thought of trusting him, but he's offering what I need. So, can I keep the drive?"

"An item found among incriminating documents should be filed as evidence, but..." a hint of deviousness snuck into Kamiya's kinesics, "if you were to get there first, nothing could be done."

 _'Guess I'll have to spend webs if I want to get webs.'_

Tsuchigumo grinned. "So we have a deal?"

"I accept, despite my better judgment." Kamiya nodded. "Where's the stash?"

"Hotel Makuhari Principessa. There's a hatch on the southwest corner of the roof. It looks like it leads to a service entrance, but it actually contains my collected documents. You'll need a code to unlock it. It's _970801_ ; write it down or something."

"With that out of the way...Prism Tower. Did you hear about what happened?" Hachiman questioned the prisoner.

"Oh, yeah," Tsuchigumo grinned. "I heard alright. Outstanding job, by the way."

Deciding to ignore the compliment, Hachiman pressed on. "It was rigged with C-4. A lot of C-4, from what I could tell. Do you know who would have that many explosives?"

"Aside from me, you mean?" Tsuchigumo stared at his hands. "Yeah, there was another guy who dealt in the stuff. Kisarame Takeshi. Couldn't have been him, though."

"...Why's that?"

"I killed him."

The confession was like a jolt of electricity, crawling across his back. He never forgot he was dealing with a murderer, but the admission made it all the more real.

"...Regardless," Kamiya stepped in, "it's a lead. Kisarame's underworld connections were not unknown. His trafficking of plastic explosives is new information, though. It's worth looking into, provided you're telling the truth."

"Why would I lie, Yuu? It's not like I have anything to gain by screwing you over. I'm willing to play nice." Tsuchigumo raised his arms, "As long as our conversations remain private, I can be an informant. We can settle some form of 'payment' later."

"Don't hold your breath. I'm not meant to be involved in any active investigations," Kamiya's voice dropped an octave. "I'll be forwarding this information to the people in charge of the Prism Tower case."

"Yuu, we both know the state Chiba's police force is in right now. You can't afford the luxury of respecting jurisdictions and that crap," Tsuchigumo argued.

If glares could kill, Kamiya Yuusuke would've been charged with homicide. "I wonder who's responsible for that," His locution dripped with venom.

Tsuchigumo's face fell, shackled in a facsimile of remorse.

"We're done here, Spider-Man," It hadn't been a question, but an order from a captain turning his back on the prisoner. "Susumu, take care."

"Be seeing you, boss." Susumu delivered his farewell with an informal two-finger salute. "You too, Spidey."

Hachiman, too, made his way to exit the guardroom. A voice unnatural for an individual so imposing gave his step pause.

"Hey, kid..."

He glanced over his shoulder. The shutters were rolling down, isolating Tsuchigumo in his own dreary world.

"...come visit again sometime."

* * *

"Hey, Dad, it's me."

It was a door he'd always dread to open. On the other side, a room composed of dissonant cheer reminded him of all he'd lost. Family photographs affixed to the walls painted stories of joyous times past. In one, he blew the candles on a cake emblazoned with Doraemon's round head for his seventh birthday. In another, he rode a bike without safety wheels for the very first time. In yet another, he saw himself as an infant, hoisted atop his father's shoulders. The sight of the pictures made his eyes sting.

Something unlikely sunk him further in that bittersweet cocktail of fondness and despondency. A game console resided on a wooden stand below the television. The system belonged to the previous century, seeing release in the mid-nineties. Despite its age, the boy had spent many hours enjoying what it offered, together with his old man. Jewel cases holding compact discs were arranged neatly on shelving right above it. It was his dad's collection, and he had a sizable library, having adopted the platform in its heyday.

"I know...I don't visit much."

He couldn't bear to look at him. An unrecognizable bald man confined to an electric bed, a prisoner in his own body. He couldn't fend for himself. He couldn't even speak. The accident ruined his cognition, twisted his limbs, and damaged his brain. Things could never go back to the way they were.

"...A friend of mine lost someone close to him, and I wasn't there. It reminded me of how it felt when...when I lost you. I should have known what he was going through, but I didn't. I was absent...and it reminded me of how I'm always avoiding you, Dad."

Even then, as he pored his heart out, Tobe avoided the sight of his broken father.

"...Because...it's all my fault..."

What would've been cause for celebration led instead to tragedy.

His name displayed on the list of admitted applicants. A pumped fist, and a howl of victory at hard work paying off. His phone, hastily retrieved. A quick dial, and an answer at the other end. News that couldn't wait excitedly delivered. Shouts of jubilation, now belonging to the man behind the wheel.

The earsplitting blaring of a horn. The screeching of tires. The joyful yell replaced by a terrified cry.

The sickening crunch of impact.

The realization of his mistake.

His phone, shattering against the ground.

The overcast sky above, heralding the coming of rain.

Tobe shook, straining to dispel the horrific recollection. He'd come here to speak to his father, even if the battered man proved unable to process any of what he'd come to express. If he plunged once more into that unfathomable murk, he'd be unable to withstand it. His wounds already ached unbearably.

"I haven't been a good friend, nor have I been a good son," Tobe spoke, hugging himself in an attempting to stop trembling. "...I want to be better."

Mustering every fiber of courage in his being, Tobe willed his vision to confront his father.

What he witnessed was just as heart-wrenching as it had been almost two years ago.

This time, however, he did not turn away from the scene, blurry as it may be through tears.

"I'm trying...to be good, dad," he sobbed, slumping down on his knees next to the bed. Feebly, he propped himself against the railing. "There's this guy...Saved my life. Saved...so many lives," Tobe's body trembled some more. "Even if people often look down on him," he blinked away some of the stinging in his eyeballs, "he keeps doing his best. I want...I want to be that strong."

The youth exhaled deeply, his eyes shut in agonizing grief. "I...I don't know if he and I are friends, but I want to believe we can be. And I-I don't want to let him down."

The child within him almost expected a large hand to rest atop of his head. It was a sign of affection his father had used a lot. It had calmed Tobe and reassured him whenever he'd been distraught.

But...it was impossible for such simple comfort to manifest. His father body may be present, but he wasn't there. All that remained was the memory of him, encased in a husk of flesh.

"Dad, how do I reach out? How do I show someone like that I care?"

Once, he believed his father held the answer to everything. Was he hoping his father would show him the way? Give him a sign?

Instead, his father bobbed his head in repetitive, janky motions, mouth frozen half-open. They were nonsensical, unnatural movements with no rhyme or reason. They were proof he lived, and proof he'd died.

Tobe felt the pit of his stomach grow deeper. He let go of the railing, allowing himself to flop all the way to the floor. His temple propped up against the mattress, he stared ahead listlessly.

Within his heart, under the leaden sky he saw that wretched day, time had frozen forever.

Stuck in his numb languishing, he eventually regarded the white game console.

 _"All right! My win, Dad!"_

 _"Hahaha! You're really into it, aren't you, Tobe?"_

 _"Yeah! The mechs are so cool! Hey, maybe I can pilot one when I grow up!"_

 _A hand ruffled his soft hair. "I don't know about that, champ, but how about we play this game at the arcade. It's the next best thing!"_

 _"Aw yeah! You're the best, dad!"_

He'd found himself crawling towards the stand where the boxy system resided. His father had carefully maintained it throughout the years. As a result, it was still in a remarkably good condition.

Tobe ran a hand over its outer shell. Absentmindedly, his finger lingered over the SEGA Saturn's power button.

To push it down would be an invitation to further painful recollection.

He pressed it anyway.

Turning the television on as well, a familiar, crescendoing boot-up sound greeted him. It had been years since he'd heard it last.

He hadn't checked the disc drive for its contents, but there had been a game sitting within. A perennial favorite of his for as long as he could remember: Cyber Troopers Virtual-On.

His hands held the gamepad, its shape comfortably fitting between his palms. Prompted by the command on the screen, his thumb pushed down on the start button.

" **SELECT YOUR MACHINE** ," a robotic voice instructed.

The default option had always been Tobe's favorite. He made his selection with no hesitation.

" **TEMJIN** ," the voice announced.

A short animation played, depicting his blue mech skimming seawater and splashing waves. Afterward, the game was poised to begin.

" **GET READY.** "

An energetic background tune struck Tobe mercilessly with nostalgia for his halcyon days. Those days where things were simple and straightforward. Days he would dream about what the future held with excitement and delight. Days where he wouldn't stay past dusk in school in a vain attempt at running away. Days he wouldn't evade the crushing reality of his father's condition. Days he wouldn't try to escape his own culpability.

Tears streaked down his cheeks like so much rain.

Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was juvenile, but this old system held great significance to Tobe. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. There was something absent. Playing by himself just wasn't the same as having a partner by his side.

...He'd wanted to reach out. Perhaps the best way to do so would be sharing something of importance to him. He wasn't ready to open up about the why, but it would be a good first step.

"Dad..." Tobe vocalized through a choked sob. "do you mind if I borrow this for a bit?"

* * *

As he entered the living room of Echo's apartment, Tobe couldn't help but grin a little. He'd spotted a the messy bundle of fabric with a black-clad foot sticking out.

The bundle began to stir. The noise caused by Tobe's entry must've disturbed the other boy's slumber. Flopping ungainly out of the duvet, Hachiman sat up on the futon, heavy-lidded eyes leveled at Tobe.

"That your costume, or did you get a set of Spidey pajamas? Cause honestly, I can't tell."

"Wuh?" the groggy Hachiman blinked, then groaned and finally asked a question: "...wha' time is it?"

"Half past ten. Seems you were conked out for a while, Hach."

"Finished so late the damn trains stopped running..." Hachiman recounted as if to himself. He rolled his shoulders and stretched an arm over his head, joints popping.

"You sure got the goods, though!" Echo spoke as he emerged from his room. "Talk about mining for copper and striking gold instead."

"Yeah, yeah..." Hachiman stifled a yawn.

"You look like you're ready to head out," Tobe noted. Echo wore a blue puffer jacket, full-fingered gloves, and jeans. He'd also slung a duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Hachiman twisted his body towards Echo. "Oh. Before you leave: can I borrow your shower?"

"What, not going to ask where I'm going?"

"Why, should I care?"

"Oh, you should. I have an appointment in Akihabara with a supplier that's going to keep you stocked with web fluid." Echo pulled a red and blue USB drive from his jacket's pocket. "Everything we needed really was in here!"

Hachiman frowned. Echo took notice. "Don't worry. I know what you're thinking," the adult added. "They guarantee discretion. I know for a fact they're reliable."

"How can you be sure of that?" Hachiman's eyebrows knitted together.

"My friend referred me."

Hachiman scoffed. "You're not exactly inspiring much confidence."

"Said friend's the one who worked the tech magic in your communication equipment. She vouches for them professionally, so yes: reliable. Besides, what were you expecting? Someone has to make the fluid, not to mention the cartridges themselves."

The boy groaned. "Gotta _love_ logistics..."

"I should get going," Echo pocketed the drive again. "Help yourself to the bath, Hachiman. You can use a towel from the top rack."

With Echo gone and Hachiman freshening up, Tobe set his backpack down and zipped it open. Inside the bag resided the SEGA Saturn he'd taken from his home. He also carried an upscaling device for proper display in modern television sets. Of course, he also held a collection of assorted two-player games and a pair of controllers.

He set the system up, hooking cables and plugging outlets where they belonged. With Hachiman still washing, he retrieved his copy of Virtual-On and set aside his other games. The jewel cases sat atop the couch, next to a coat.

Eventually, Hachiman emerged from the bathroom, toweling his moist hair with one hand. In the other, he bundled the costume he'd been wearing, having changed into his clean spare. He took a glance at the game Tobe was playing, saying nothing. Instead, he grabbed his overcoat strewn across the couch.

"Hach?" Tobe, cross-legged in front of the television, turned towards him. "You're leaving?"

"No point staying here," Hachiman answered. "It might be a while before Echo gets back."

"Hey, c'mon. Stay. Let's hang out."

Hachiman narrowed his eyes at the other teen. "...I'm hungry."

Tobe made his counteroffer. "Let's order a pizza! My treat!"

Hachiman grunted, neither accepting nor refusing. The cover art of one of Tobe's games caught his attention. He picked it up and studied it.

"Marvel Super Heroes..." Hachiman muttered. "The one I was thinking of had Street Fighter characters in it too, though..."

"You wanna play it?" Tobe beamed.

"...No tomatoes."

"Huh?"

"No tomatoes. On the pizza," Hachiman said, letting his coat flop down atop the couch. "I can't say no to free food."

"Hach...pizza has tomato sauce. It's kind of its thing."

"No tomato slices," Hachiman cleared. Game in hand, he positioned himself next to Tobe on the floor. "Pizza itself is fine."

Tobe turned the system off and popped the disc tray open. "Any toppings in mind?"

"Nah."

"The works, then!"

A phone call later, Tobe's order was placed. Marvel Super Heroes went into the Saturn, and a fierce set of games followed. As expected, Hachiman selected Spider-Man. Tobe opted to face him as Captain America. Their gamepads clacked with their rapid button presses and directional inputs.

"Your reactions..." Tobe uttered as Spider-Man punished his overextended kick with a low sweep, "...are insane!"

He wasn't out of the game yet, though. He might be rusty, but he had something Hach didn't: experience. Spider-Man jumped at the floored Captain America, and Tobe saw his chance. An attack was incoming! Forward, down, down-forward; his thumb danced on the directional pad. The press of the 'heavy punch' button accompanied his inputs. Captain America rose to meet the leaping adversary with a flying shoulder tackle. "Stars and Stripes!" Captain America shouted.

The anti-air attack struck true. Now Tobe was in the offensive. Both combatants were low on health. Whoever got the next hit in would win the round, and the match.

"Shield Slash!" Tobe's character yelled, throwing his discus shield as a projectile across the screen. It forced Spider-Man to block. The shield bounced off his guard and returned to its owner. Tobe willed Captain America to jump and threw his shield again in the air. "Shield Slash!" Captain America repeated, his buckler flying down at a sharp angle. Spider-Man guarded again, as he'd expected. Captain America's feet landed on the ground, both characters a hair's breadth apart. It was time.

He locked Spider-Man in a grab. With a throw, it was all over. Tobe pumped his fist in satisfaction.

Hachiman said nothing, opting instead to return them to the Character Select screen. Without saying a word, he requested a rematch, and Tobe complied.

They played more matches, both winning some and losing some. At some point, the sound of the doorbell interrupted their games, forcing them to pause. "I'll get it," Tobe said as he stood up, and a little later he came back with a pizza box in hand. He set it down next to them, lifted the lid, and basked in the fragrance.

"Smells so good..." Tobe's mouth watered. Without further ado, they began to scarf down the pie.

"Didn't picture you as someone who'd own a retro console," Hachiman said eventually.

"Hm?" A strand of cheese connected Tobe's mouth and the slice he held. He chewed on it, cutting it, before speaking: "Oh, yeah. It belongs to my Dad. Used to play it a lot with him. Heck, as a kid, my dream was becomin' a game designer."

"Dream, huh..." Hachiman muttered.

Wanting to transition the conversation away from his father, Tobe posed a question. "What about you, Hach? Any dreams?"

Hachiman appeared to ponder. "...No," he shrugged. "I've never really had any," a tinge of unease painted his voice.

"I would've thought a smart guy like you had everything figured out," Tobe blurted honestly. "At least before the bite threw a curveball."

"Smart?" Hachiman seemed puzzled at the compliment.

"Heck yeah dude, you're one of the smartest guys I know!" A small grin grew on Tobe's face. "I realized it when you helped me back during the school trip. Man, you sure saved my hide back then."

Hachiman's expression softened. "Ah. Thanks, I guess." It was evident he was taken aback by the sincere praise.

"Hey, I call 'em how I see 'em, Hach."

"...This pizza is good," Hachiman hastily tried to change the subject. Tobe caught on but decided to play along. He'd give him his space and take things one step at a time.

"Pizza's always great, no matter what! Hey, did you know? I heard the other day, Americans love to argue whether pineapple goes on pizza."

"That's an actual debate?" Hachiman said, capitalizing on the exit Tobe had left open.

Tobe nodded. "Seems silly, don't it? Some call having pineapple as a topping a crime against humanity!"

"...That big of a deal?" Hachiman expressed in slight befuddlement. "To be looked down upon for your choice of toppings...Western society is as cutthroat as ours."

"I'm telling ya, man, they'd have a heart attack if they saw some of the pizza we have here. Hello, Domino's Mayo Jaga?" Tobe reached into his pocket for his phone. "Here, let me show you a video about it." He pressed the icon for the Youtube app.

When the application is opened, it lists viewing recommendations tailored to each user. The second suggested video displayed on the screen froze both boys to the core.

"The hell...?" Hachiman muttered. "Tobe, open it!"

Filled with dread, Tobe pressed on the latest video posted by Screwball Network.

Its thumbnail?

An invitation. A card, as frilly, as pink, as sickening as the one from before.

The video was but a 30-second clip, with the invitation never leaving the frame.

 _"Spider-Man,_

 _You are cordially invited_

 _to a most gracious celebration._

 _I look forward to our fated encounter._

 _With Much Love,_

 _-R"_

The comments section was abuzz with puzzlement, consternation, and excitement:

 _"Hey, the link on the description needs a password."_

 _"Is this an ARG?"_

 _"Man, some people will do anything for views."_

 _"These leeches need to leave Spidey alone already!"_

 _"Someone has to say it. The stationary is super cute."_

 _"We regret to inform you the Screwballs are at it again wwwwwwwwwww."_

"No doubt about it," Hachiman slid his gloves over his fingers, agitation oozing from his every pore. "It's identical to the one from Prism Tower."

Without delay, Tobe leaped for his bag and retrieved the terminal Echo had entrusted to him. He popped the top open and quickly opened its web browser. He surfed to Youtube, located the video, and opened the link below the player.

It led to a web page containing a replica of the invite, down to the last character. However, there was an additional element: a line underneath the text. Hovering his pointer atop the line, Tobe realized he could type into it.

Hachiman frown grew deeper as he pored over the screen. "Great. What are we supposed to do now, wait for another invitation?"

"Maybe not..." Tobe mouthed, booting one of the terminal's installed programs. He navigated through a catalog of video files and located the footage he'd been searching for. It was a first-person feed originating from the camera in the Spider Protector's mask.

By manipulating the scrubber, he managed to stop the video at the moment he'd needed. "Hach, aren't these numbers?"

"Yeah. Seems we missed them earlier because of how blurry they are."

"Let's try this," Tobe said, as he tapped on the right arrow key. Frame by frame, they studied the recording. A portion of the numbers was legible in some frames. In others, they were ruined by compression artifacts. Thankfully, they managed to obtain a full string after inspecting several frames.

" _82921771_ ", Tobe uttered every number as he typed it down on the web page. His finger hovered over the Enter key. "You ready for this?"

Hachiman, frowning and intensely glaring at the screen, nodded.

His finger met the key with a _'clack'_.

They both cursed.

There were two things behind that password. One, an interactive map with a marker, directing them to a location in the Port of Chiba. Below the map, the words "Queen's Gambit" were emblazoned.

The second element was far more unsettling. It was a live stream, or so did the bold white letters beside the red circle claim. The dark, grainy video feed displayed two bound hostages. They were the two Kaihin Sougou students Spider-Man had blown off some days before.

They weren't even screaming. They were sobbing. Resigned to their fate. That fear wasn't fake.

Surrounding them, dots on brick-like blocks blinked green.

There was no need for words between the two boys. There wasn't even a need for Tobe to turn around. He simply reached for his headset and donned it.

The distinct _'thwip!'_ of a web-line shot had said everything he needed to hear.

* * *

It took exactly twenty-three minutes for Hachiman to reach the designated location. Perched high above a latticed metal structure, he checked his wrists.

His left shooter's cartridge was empty. He'd also used quite a bit of the cartridge on his right - and it was the last one he had left. He ejected the empty casing and inserted one of the fire-retardant cartridges instead. No point in leaving one of his shooters empty.

"Spidey," Tobe radioed, "That yacht over there, that's the Queen's Gambit. I managed to pull up some information on it from JCI records. Lessee here... Registered under one Kisarame Takeshi..."

"I've heard that name before," Hachiman remarked.

"...Fifty meters in length, four decks total. The rest of the info here is either irrelevant or some legalese I can't make out. There is a layout diagram, though."

"Okay, I'm going to go in through there," Hachiman pointed at an entrance on the rear end of the yacht. It opened to a flat, ample surface he could easily land on. While he could certainly cling to the outside of the boat, that posed the peril of falling into the water. With the air as chilly as it was, he'd rather avoid the added risk of hypothermia. "What can you tell me about it?"

"That's the swim platform," Tobe said. "It shouldn't be open regularly, though."

"Whoever's behind this, they're expecting me."

"The swim platform leads to the lower deck, but only the engine room can be accessed from that side. There are some stairs at the port side that connect to the main and upper decks, right next to the lifeboat."

"What was the port side, again? I always get them mixed up," Hachiman admitted.

"From your vantage, the left. And don't worry, me too."

"Copy. What about the rest of the lower deck?"

"Two ways in: there's a hatch at the fore of the main deck, it leads to the lower deck's main hallway. The other's a stairwell connecting it to the main and upper decks. That's located near the middle of the ship," Tobe said.

"Most likely, the hostages are somewhere on the bottom deck," Hachiman deduced.

"Yeah, it's by far the hardest section of the yacht to access."

"Couple that with the lack of natural lighting in the live feed. I can see large enough windows on the other decks from here."

"Good call," Tobe whistled. "The crew cabins are located there, too. Might be a good place to check."

Hachiman weighed his options.

'This is a trap. That much is obvious. The fore hatch to the lower deck is either locked, booby-trapped, or both. Entering through the swim platform would be walking into an ambush.'

"That other stairwell. What would be the best way to reach it?" Hachiman asked.

"Main deck, end of the starboard hallway. There should be a door to the left."

 _'Perfect.'_

"Main deck it is," Hachiman rose to his feet and took a deep breath. "Here goes."

He jumped, harsh wind buffeting him as he descended. His middle and ring fingers tapped at his right palm twice. Webbing stuck to the aft of the upper deck, and Spider-Man pulled his body on the strand. It changed his trajectory, allowing him to grab onto a railing. With his momentum, he vaulted onto the main deck, landing on a forceful low crouch.

"Time for Stealth Spider to pull its weight," Hachiman uttered.

"What was that?"

"N-nothing," he glanced to his left and spotted curved stairs heading down. Staying low, he approached them. "I'm going to check the swim deck from the rear. Get an idea of what we're dealing with."

Sticking close to the wall, he peeked out the corner of the bottom level. There was nothing there.

"No lifeboat..." Tobe uttered.

"No welcoming committee, either." Hachiman frowned. The walkways were clear, and the entrance he opted to avoid presented no hazards to speak of. There wasn't the smallest inkling of danger, and that unsettled him far more than actual peril. He doubled back up the stairs, emerging once more to the main deck.

His trek through the starboard hallway presented no obstacles, either. He reached the doors Tobe mentioned, revealing the ingress to the rest of the lower deck.

 _'I would've expected some company by now...'_ Nonetheless, his Spider-Sense remained silent.

He placed a foot on a hallway with little space to maneuver in. It was lined with doors, stretching all the way down to a set of small steps. Cautiously, he opened the first door to his right. It led to a comfortable-looking room, the sorts you'd see in a fancy hotel. A king-sized bed took up most of the room's real estate.

The rest of the floor space was almost monopolized by olive crates, stacked one on top of another. Squeezing between the crates, he lifted the cover to one of the smaller boxes.

"...Guns," he muttered. "Kisarame must've run his arms dealings from this boat."

"Those are...assault weapons. Is there really a market for that much heat here in Japan?"

"Who said they're meant for Japan?" Hachiman retorted, shutting the lid back down. Theories began to swirl around his mind, but he pushed them aside. Speculation would prove distracting, and diversions he couldn't afford.

Stepping back out into the hallway, he checked the door facing it. That room, too, was chock-full of weapon crates. Every room he checked, even the crew quarters, had boxes stacked wherever possible.

All except for the largest cabin. There were no containers filled to the brim with munitions within. Instead, there was but a single rectangular box. Its wooden construction was of exquisite quality and impeccable varnish. Its lid was split in half across the narrower side. One of the halves was held open and lined in a soft, pillowy material...

It was a casket, and it held an occupant.

Both Spider-Man and his operator remained silent at the bizarre sight. The former scanned the room and found nothing before heading back to the hallway. The latter confirmed their suspicions. "I managed to pull up a photograph of Kisarame Takeshi. That was him."

A creeping sensation settled on the back of Hachiman's neck. Nonetheless, he soldiered on and made for the hatch. The handle turned with barely any effort. He emerged once again on the main deck, this time near the bow of the yacht.

A sweep of the main deck revealed little else. The rooms were lavisher if emptier, devoid of murderous merchandise. The more he explored, the more agitated he felt. His Spider-Sense continued in its unsettling absence...

He was back where he'd first set foot on the boat. This time, he took the stairs up, reaching the stern of the upper deck. A set of translucent sliding doors stood before him. Hachiman took notice of petals light purple, scattered on the ground, leading inside. Crouching, he took one of the petals between his thumb and index finger. It was...an ordinary rose petal, nothing amiss.

'You are cordially invited to a most gracious celebration...'

Whoever summoned him here had to be on the other side of those doors. Rising, he stepped towards the doors as they parted.

He crossed the threshold, entering a luxurious lounge with a majestic grand piano. There was a faint scent of sweet lavender perfume and a muffled melody of romantic saxophone.

The backrest of a regal love seat faced him, alongside light brown tresses. As he drew closer, he heard the gentle clattering of china set down on a table.

The lady turned to face him. "Ah, you're finally here, my dearly beloved!"

"...What?!"

She was like a doll, and her silhouette was about as petite. She wasn't very tall; if anything, she barely reached Hachiman's chin. Her sweet smile was as decadent. An ornate bow sat above her flawlessly straight fringe. The strands of her hair flowed like wavy caramel waterfalls. Pastel ribbons decorated her matching jumper skirt. She wore a gorgeous white blouse underneath. It had puffy sleeves and a peter-pan collar lined with ruffled lace. Ruffled lace adorned her wrists in cuffs, too. Ruffled lace also circled her thighs, her long stockings ending in dainty mary janes. So much ruffled lace...

Her large, lively hazel eyes shone with glee, admiring her guest.

Frilly. Pink. Sickening.

With a graceful step towards him, she grabbed hold of his hand. She brought his palm to her cheek and basked in its touch. "I've been waiting for so long, my love..."

Hachiman was reeling with a thousand questions. Who was this strange girl? How was she involved in the hostage situation? Was she the culprit behind Prism Tower? That seemed likely. She must've been who invited him here...

Coupled to his confusion was her inappropriate proximity. So close was she, he could feel the heat of her body. His heart jackhammered as a result. In conclusion, you had one dazed Hachiman.

He meant to ask "who are you?" but all that came from his mouth was inelegant, incoherent blubbering.

Her giggle was as decadent as the finest dessert and just as intoxicating. "Come again, darling?"

"Buh...whreyuu...Who...arr you?"

"Oh!" her eyes widened. "Apologies, I tend to get carried away." Even as she said this, she nuzzled his hand more. "I'm Kisarame Reina, and I'm your bride to be."

Bride to be?

Inexplicably, the image of Yukinoshita Yukino in a wedding dress flashed in his mind.

That memory of a Service Club request long since fulfilled snapped him back to reality. He pulled his hand brusquely with a yelp, flinching. Reina pouted adorably, upset at the termination of their physical contact.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Oh!" she brought her hands together delicately. "Of course. Your bride needs an appropriate appellation for your dramatic lifestyle, does she not?"

"Lady, what...?"

Hands behind her back, she stood on her tiptoes, closing the distance between them even more. It forced Hachiman to lean back a little.

"I've been thinking about it, I really have!" She cutely wagged her index finger next to her cheek. "So, do you like Bombshell?"

"Bomb...shell?" Hachiman repeated dumbly. The girl didn't look like a 'bombshell'. She was more a delicate beauty carved out of porcelain.

Yet, any doubt that could've endured regarding her ties to the Prism Tower bombing had been laid to rest. The confirmation was as sobering as being splashed by a bucket of cold water.

"Where are the hostages?" he growled, tilting his head at her and glaring ferociously.

"Ahh, so intense...!" Bombshell didn't seem intimidated at all. If anything, she was completely awestruck.

"I don't want to get rough, lady. The hostages. Now."

"Rough? ...Oh my! Here I thought we'd consummate during our wedding night."

His glare grew more vicious. Her arms wrapped around his neck and snuggled close.

This had been the closest Hikigaya Hachiman had ever physically been to a woman. Yet, he wasn't enjoying it at all, despite the alluring company. No, it was so revolting it made him want to puke.

"Why concern yourself with those disrespectful boors? Let's enjoy this moment all to ourselves," her voice was honeyed poison. "I'm all yours, my love. Ravish me."

"Hands. Off."

A mix of unbound anger, shameful arousal, and unbridled revulsion flowed his veins. He placed a hand on her arm, struggling with the temptation to clamp down and snap her humerus in two.

"I don't want to hurt you. Tell me where they are."

"They're not here, they won't bother us."

He squeezed her arm tight enough to restrain. "Then you've got a date with the police."

Her face fell. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this..."

His Spider-Sense exploded.

Click.

As soon as it had come, the sensation dissipated. Slowly, he shifted his head within the embrace, and then he saw it.

In her hand, she grasped some manner of device. A black shaft gave way to a red button she held down with her thumb. His eyes widened.

"You..." panic began to drown him as he broke away from her clasp. "What did you do?!"

"Um, nothing yet..." she answered, holding her hands, and the device, close to her chest. "...but if I let go of this button, my house will explode..."

Goosebumps trailed his body. "...and the hostages along with it," he finished.

"I didn't want to resort to this. I knew it'd spoil the mood..."

"Spidey!" Tobe, quiet until now, yelled. "Keep her distracted! Whatever you do, don't let her release that switch!"

* * *

The rush of adrenaline propelled Tobe off his chair and on his feet. His pulse pounded at his head, his breathing agitated. The situation had become so dire so quickly, it was difficult to keep a clear head.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. He balled his hands into fists and tried to regain control over his frayed nerves. He was Spider-Man's one-man support crew. His guy in the chair. He had to make good of that and do something constructive.

She had mentioned her house. The captives were held there. The sooner they could be rescued, the better. Should he call the police? ...An anonymous tip would be too vague. He couldn't call 110 and say something like _'I'm friends with Spider-Man'_ , either. No, he needed to notify someone directly, someone who's dealt with Spider-Man.

He disabled his audio connection with Hachiman. He knew exactly who he could reach out to.

"Computer, audio command. Call: Kamiya Yuusuke."

To make hands-free phone calls from the Spider Protector's comms, a contact list was needed. Phone numbers would be added to a program that ran from Tobe's terminal. The list would then sync over the network with the mask's electronic equipment. In the end, that meant Hachiman could make calls independently at any moment. It also meant Tobe had access to the same contact list as he did.

The young man paced around the living room, dial tone ringing on his wireless headset. Four tones felt like an eternity until thankfully there was an answer on the other end of the line.

"...Who is this?"

"Is-is this Captain Kamiya Yuusuke?" Tobe stammered.

"How do you have this number?"

"I'm friends with Spider-Man, and he needs help!"

"...Is this a prank call? This sounds like a prank call," the man Tobe assumed to be Kamiya was understandably reticent.

"Sir, this is no joke. I can prove it: I know how you helped him out yesterday. You led him to an interview with Tsuchigumo."

"...Okay, color me intrigued. I'm listening."

Tobe pumped a fist and let out a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding.

"What should I call you then, mystery caller?" Kamiya continued.

Oh damn. He needed to answer something, anything, fast. His line of sight caught the games he'd left atop the couch. On top of the pile, Virtual-On, with his favorite mech plastered on its cover art.

How come he hadn't thought of it sooner?

He made his choice with startling clarity. It didn't feel like a split-second decision. No, instead, it felt perfectly right. It would be, after all, a tribute to his father, a celebration of what had once been.

A sliver of blue broke through the gray skies cast over his heart.

"Call me... _Temjin_."

* * *

Bombshell led him by the hand to the bridge of the yacht. Her right hand clasped his own, while her left continued to hold down the dead man's switch. Stepping atop a raised platform and releasing her grip of him, she reached for the controls. Despite the encumbrance of the detonator, she deftly operated the equipment.

"What are you doing?" Hachiman grimaced. As if on cue, a low buzzing emerged in the back of his head. Then, he heard the engines roar to life.

"This boat has the best autopilot money can buy," she said. "It shall be the captain for our little getaway."

The vibrations underneath them indicated the ship had begun to move.

"Well, then, shall we head up to the sun deck?" she asked, and he grunted.

"Spidey, I'm with Kamiya on the other line right now. They're sending units to the Kisarame Residence. Keep her distracted!" Tobe's voice rang in his ear.

"...Sun deck it is," Hachiman answered, uncertain of who he'd responded to.

She turned back to him, looking down from the apex of the platform's steps. "Hey, darling?"

He made a noncommittal, guttural sound.

She ignored his lack of enthusiasm. "Carry me!"

"Whoa!"

She'd thrown herself at him, and he reacted immediately. He caught the falling pile of ribbons and lace in his arms.

"Are you out of your mind?! ...Wait, don't answer that."

"Ehehehehe..." She nestled her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around her neck for the second time that day. "I'm crazy for you, after all."

He took a deep breath. His urgency and indignation were in peril of replacement by deep, DEEP exasperation.

He had to remind himself: he was dealing with a very dangerous criminal. A dangerous, frilly, annoying criminal.

"Say, you know what they call this? A bridal carry," she blushed. "Are you...going to carry me over the threshold?"

"The only reason I don't drop you right now is that I don't want you to get your finger off that button."

She giggled effusively, kicking at the air with the legs held up by Spider-Man's grip. "You're so funny, darling!"

"I'm not joking."

"Oh, please," she moved her lips mere inches to his ear. "As if you could ever let anybody down."

Hachiman sighed. "If you say so. So, sun deck, was it?"

"Right, right!" She shifted her body back, and Hachiman was so glad he'd regained at least some distance.

 _'You guys better hurry and get the hostages out safely. I don't know how much more of this I can take,'_ he thought.

* * *

"Temjin, we're moving out. How's our web-head doing?"

"He has a beautiful woman in his arms, and he's hating every second of it," Tobe reported. "Bombshell's enjoying herself too much to notice."

"Wait. Bombshell?"

"Her name, not ours."

On the other end of the call, Kamiya sighed. "A self-styled supervillain, huh?"

Tobe shrugged. "She's more of a self-styled super-groupie."

"Still a serious threat. Have Spider-Man buy us as much time as he can."

"Trust me, he's working on it."

* * *

This girl **REALLY** didn't know the meaning of personal space, did she?

They were now out in the chilly air, sat atop a circular couch surrounding a good chunk of the sun deck. Of course, she'd decided to wrap her arms around his, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Ah, this is bliss!"

 _'...Speak for yourself, lady.'_

The cold breeze, the gentle vibrations, and the beautiful ocean were undeniably enchanting. If he could forget the crisis he was involved in, and if it had been someone else at his side, he could've enjoyed himself. Unfortunately, reality was often disappointing. He was out here dealing with a bomb threat, and the woman beside him wasn't Yuki-

 _'Why am I thinking about her in a situation like this?! Get your head in the game, Hachiman!'_

His body must've tensed, for his unwanted company stirred. "Say, darling, how about a drink? Does wine strike your fancy?"

"I'm not old enough for alcohol," he deflected honestly.

"Ehh, really? I figured you'd be older than me. I turned twenty-one last month!"

"Huh. I guess I would've thought you younger, too," he admitted.

"I don't mind marrying a younger man..." she grinned a little nervously. "...You are a man, aren't you?"

"I'm old enough," he lied. He was one year short, but if he disappointed her now, he didn't know how she'd react.

"You worried me for a moment there, my love!" She placed her free hand on his chest. "Say, how about you pour some of Cabernet Sauvignon for me, then?" She began to twirl her finger on the spider emblem emblazoned on his chest. Alarm bells rang in his head. "The minibar's right over there..."

"I'd rather not," he said. Quickly concocting a strategy, he took her hand in his as a gentleman would.

"Um, why is that?"

In truth, all he cared for was the effect insobriety could mean for her ability to keep the switch held down. Still, he had to sell it, and sell it he would.

His thumb caressed the back of her hand. "I'd like to get to know you. The real you, no liquor involved."

"Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhh~!" she swooned, her eyes sparkled with elation.

"Haha, _WHAT?!_ " the voice in his ear exploded, taken aback. Hachiman cringed a little at the sudden noise.

"So, I'm curious," he began, recovering from the blow his eardrum had taken. "Why would you have me as your groom?" he modulated his voice in the way he imagined a real heartthrob would. It sounded off even to his ears, but by her dumbstruck expression, it appeared to have the desired effect.

"So that's how you're going to play it, huh?" Tobe transmitted. "Godspeed, you crazy Don Juan. _God-freakin'-speed_!"

"O-oh!" the star-struck woman regained some of her composure. "R-Right, of course. Well, how was I supposed to feel? You appeared out of nowhere and saved my papa's life, like a knight in shining armor."

His face became stone-like, and he hoped the mask wouldn't show it too much. "Your father...he's Kisarame Takeshi, no?"

"You know him? Isn't papa a wonderful man? He is, isn't he? The most wonderful man in the world!"

"Spidey, what..." Tobe sounded flabbergasted. Honestly, Hachiman was too, but the game was afoot, and he took note of what she'd said.

"I've yet to meet him, but I've heard much," his faux-charming affectation persisted. "I suppose, if he's to become my father-in-law, I should be introduced to him. Is he on board?"

A small twitch at the corner of her mouth. Then, the usual smile. "N-no, he's on a business trip at the moment. Oh, but I cannot wait for you to meet him!"

"I look forward to it, Reina. Next question. What were your intentions with Prism Tower?"

"Oh, you mean the fireworks with the card? I only meant for them to catch your eye," she flashed a smile so innocent, so cruel. "It was just a little display of affection, nobody would get hurt!"

"Someone did get hurt."

Widening of the eyes. A glazy look in her pupils. Quivering eyebrow. "I-I didn't mean for anyone to be hurt. They, they told me everyone would be in the hall, and it'd be safe there!"

"...They? Who's this _'they'_?" Tobe gave voice to Hachiman's thoughts.

Regardless, he had to keep pressing, for this wasn't a situation Spider-Man could punch his way out of.

No, this was a battle where only Hikigaya Hachiman's keen mind could seize victory.

"The boy who was injured will be fine," he gave her hand a squeeze. He couldn't tell if it was part of the act or genuine sympathy anymore. "I visited him at the hospital. A little rest, and he'll be good as new."

"Oh, thank goodness. I don't...I don't think I would've been able to live with myself otherwise. I don't think I would've been able to face you."

"...Tell me something else. There was a tiny toy with the card and cake. What did it mean?"

"Toy? I didn't add any toys to the package..."

That clinched it. There was a third party involved. Common sense dictated as much - how could a young girl rig an entire building full of explosives by herself? The Spider-Man figurine with the crossed-out eyes had to be an addition from this third party.

"I do like giant stuffed teddy bears, though. Like, a lot..." she said in a soft voice.

Was she trying to stray away from the topic?

"Spidey: update! Bomb squad's movin' into the residence. I'll keep you posted."

Of course she was. Her expression wasn't the same. It was desperately trying to keep up appearances.

As he weaved a web of observations and evidence in his mind, he decided he could use her tangent to his advantage.

"Do you own any?" he asked.

Small smile. It's forced, there's sorrow behind that smile. "Yes, my room is filled with them! I love them so much! They're my best friends!"

 _'So then, why do you look so sad?'_

"Hostages have been located! They're workin' on gettin' them out now!"

The next question could very well tie everything together.

It was time for the final blow.

"...are they your _only friends_?"

Jackpot.

The color drained from her face, her mouth hung open. It all told him he was right on the money.

The web had been weaved.

"Hostages secured!"

He'd tied it all together.

The girl, daughter of a crime lord. Sheltered from the outside world; a princess held captive in a spire too tall to reach. A spire of denial and perhaps, co-dependency.

The crime lord, his corpse held on the lower deck. The yacht, the storefront he used to peddle his merchandise.

The incident at Prism Tower, far too massive to be the work of an individual. Instead, a concerted effort.

The hostages, particularly chosen. After their public altercation with Spider-Man, a prime target for his attention.

The lifeboat, conspicuously missing.

The buzzing on the back of his head, present since the moment the boat began to move.

And finally, the dead man's switch in her left hand, which had to be out of reach by now, so far at sea.

He let go of her hand and stood up. It was time for the denouement.

"Spidey! The bomb squad! They checked the explosives in the video, and...!"

Hachiman cut him off. "I know."

He extended his hand and gestured for her to relinquish her collateral. Realizing he'd figured it out, she had no option but to comply.

"This isn't a dead man's switch," he asserted. Casually, he flicked it overboard. "No, it was a paper tiger."

"How...did you know?" the girl's eyes welled up with tears. Her dream was about to end before it had even begun.

"A person that horrified over having caused a single injury," he explained, "wouldn't have it in them. You were adamant about the Prism Tower guests safety, too. Too naive, but it told me what I needed."

"...You should go," she said, bringing her legs up on the couch and hugging them. "It's not safe here."

"Oh, I'm aware. The moment this boat started moving, I felt it," he took a step forward. Instead of welcoming it, she flinched. "Reina...you came here to die, didn't you?"

"You should really, really go!" she screamed, shutting her eyes.

"Well, where am hell I supposed to go? In case you haven't noticed, we're in high water!"

"I thought... you could..."

"You expected me to be invincible, didn't you?" he wouldn't relent. "You didn't want to die alone, and superheroes can survive anything, you think. Well, news flash: this is the real world!"

"I...I didn't mean to..."

"I know what you're trying to do. Everything that clashes with your worldview of your father? His remains? It'll go up in flames, along with you. A burial at sea, for both of you. Isn't. That. _Right_?"

"Stop! **STOP**!" she desperately pleaded, bringing her hands to her head in anguish.

"No! I'm **NOT STOPPING**. Do you know **WHY**?!"

He grasped her forearms and forced her to look at him.

He knew what he was here for.

He knew what Spider-Man had to do.

"...Because I'm here to _rescue you_."

He let go. Her arms fell limply to her sides. Her eyes, vacant.

She pulled her head back and let out the most heart-splitting sob Hachiman had ever heard. She then buried her face against his chest, and his suit became damp with tears.

Just this once, he'd make an exception, and allow her to be close.

She cried, and cried, and cried. She'd become a blubbering, inelegant mess. A blubbering, inelegant, authentic mess.

Frilly. Pink. Human.

"Spi...n, I'm lo...ng yo..." the abruptly cutting noise was supposed to be Tobe's voice. Hachiman was losing signal. They were on their own.

"Reina," he said, bringing his hands to her shoulders. Despite her being older, she was so vulnerable, his big brother instincts had kicked in. "I need you to do something for me."

* * *

"We're pulling out, Temjin," Kamiya said. "What's your status?"

"I've lost connection with Spider-Man. Last I heard, they were talkin' about actual live explosives onboard the yacht."

"...That's bad. All we can hope is he finds a way out."

"He will. I'm sure of it. He's the smartest guy I know."

"Yeah, of course he will," Kamiya said. "We're heading to the port now. Can you lead us to where the yacht was docked?"

"I'm sending the coordinates to your phone."

"Oh, hey, you can do that?"

"Don't get too excited," Tobe said. "It's the standard map you'd find on any messaging app these days."

"Still useful. Also, can you tell us a bit more about what happened in the Queen's Gambit while we ride?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem. I'm here to help, too."

"Good to know. How reassuring. Chiba has not one, but two superheroes."

"...Thanks," Tobe's eyes watered. He blinked away the moisture and resolved to recount the events he'd witnessed best he could.

* * *

"Here."

Reina pointed at a device rigged with wires. Some were curly, some were straight, all were tangled and intimidating. Hidden behind a dark corner of the engine room, Hachiman would've only found it if he'd known to look.

Red numbers were displayed on an LCD panel on the device. Zero-nine-five-two, zero-nine-five-one, zero-nine-five-zero, zero-nine-four-nine.

Could be worse, Hachiman thought as he flicked his Spider-Signal on. In movies, it always came down to the last handful of seconds. At least, they still had some time to work.

"You find a wire cutter yet?" he asked, as the girl dug through a toolbox they'd retrieved near the entrance to the engine room.

"Got it!"

Hachiman snatched the offered tool. Deep breath, deep breath.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked Reina, although, in all honesty, he might also be asking himself.

"If we don't make it, will you marry me in the afterlife?"

He snorted. That took some of the edge off. "No promises."

 _'I'm one crazy bastard,'_ he thought as he hovered the jaws of the pliers over one of the cables. He then moved to another, and finally over another wire before making his decision.

 _'One **crazy diamond.** '_

He made his cut.

* * *

The police had already arrived at the scene and set up a perimeter. Hachiman was still missing. With every second that ticked past, Tobe's anxiety grew.

He couldn't bear to lose anyone else. He'd already lost enough.

He wanted to know more about Hachiman. He wanted to understand him; why he was the person he was, and what person he would become.

Tobe really wanted to call himself his friend someday.

"...ey, d...ou re...d?"

The noise perked him up. He glanced at his screen. A distorted image began to clear.

"Spidey! _Spidey!_ Do you read me?"

"...an you...e?"

"Signal's spotty, still!" but that didn't matter. He was alright!

"I heard you fine just now," Spider-Man radioed. "How about you?"

"Crystal clear! I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Anyways, Tobe, guess what?"

In his screen, Tobe saw a device with a staggering amount of snipped wires leading from it. Its LCD panel was frozen at _zero-one-zero-six_.

"...Turns out you can use Spider-Sense to disarm bombs. Who knew?"

* * *

Kisarame Reina sat on the steps that connected the upper and main decks. She'd set the auto-pilot for slower cruising speed, wishing to enjoy the cold breeze a little longer. In the distance, against the overcast sky, she could spot blue and red twinkling lights. They announced the end of her fantasy, and the end to her freedom.

Despite all that, there was a small, gentle smile adorning her lips.

"You seem calm."

She glanced over her shoulder, and her smile grew wider. Walking down the stairs was Spider-Man, a brown trenchcoat over his costume.

"Thanks for letting me borrow this, by the way."

He had almost no web-fluid to speak of, nor did he have a change of clothes handy. Concealing his costume had become his best option for traversing Chiba discretely.

"I like the look," she complimented, and he took a seat next to her.

"So, tell me."

"Hm?" She cocked her head.

"What was the deal with the whole marriage thing?" he asked.

She hugged her knees. "There's not much to it. I...wanted to experience it before...you know."

"There wasn't anybody on board to pronounce husband and wife, though."

She shook her head. "No, not marriage. I meant love. I...wanted to be loved. Is there anyone out there who doesn't?"

"...It wouldn't have been the real deal," he said.

"No. It would've been a beautiful lie."

"You don't need one of those. I'm sure you'll find someone."

Her eyes, puffy and red from crying, were indeed beautiful.

"Stop it. You keep that up, and I'll fall for you for real."

"It's better if you don't," he said.

"Is there somebody?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," he said, staring longingly into the distance. "I hope there is."

* * *

 **THE SPLENDID SPIDER-MAN**

 _ **Issue #3 - Concurrently, The Two Search for their Paths**_

* * *

Echo came into his apartment to find both his proteges huddled in front of the television. They each held onto a gamepads and appeared to be having a good time.

"Hey, that's a SEGA Saturn? Man, that takes me back," he said.

The boys greeted him as he made his way for the couch. He set aside two coats, taking a seat next to a stack of games.

"You guys stay in all day?"

Hachiman grunted. "If only. Crazy day."

"That so? Let's get some good news out of the way first, then: the vendor was a perfect fit. You should have new web cartridges in a couple of days."

"Color me surprised," Hachiman said. "Those are good news."

"Yeah, and they'll be providing you with monthly drops, too. If you need extra? They're a phone call away."

The man pulled out his wallet, retrieved a business card, and handed it off to Tobe. "There. Add it to the contact list."

Tobe read the contents of the card. " _Future Gadget Laboratory_...Akihabara, Tokyo."

"Ever heard of them?"

Tobe shook his head. "Not in my life."

"They seem to be pretty famous in some circles," Echo said, "but I couldn't begin to tell you which. So," he inclined his body towards them conspiratorially. "Tell me about this day of yours."

"Oh, not much," Tobe said. "Hach here almost gets hitched, is all."

"... ** _What?!_ "**

* * *

 **[THE LETTERS COLUMN]:**

* * *

 **Nothing much to say other than HOLY CRAP IS THIS UPDATE LATE. SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I'll keep this section succinct because the more I type in this here section, the more delayed the update is. And hey! It only took me almost six months!**

 **Why did it take so long? I work full time, and work was being difficult!**

 **What will I do? If monthly updates are not realistic, I'll aim for bimonthly at the least!**

 **Why not make the updates shorter? Because I believe in telling complete stories! Cliffhangers are fine, but I don't want to make updates that are but a single scene.**

 **Anything else? Yes! Oregairu is a very referential work. so I'll try to reflect that without bogging down the narrative! I'll try to write them in a way you can figure them out from context if I can! But even so, I think I'll add a "references" section at the end, for your convenience. I won't number them, though. I feel that would affect the readability of any story. Instead, use Ctrl + F if you feel like you need to know what it is!**

 **Do you feel this new section is necessary? Or would you like me to tone down the references?**

 **Oh: the suit in the trailers for Spider-Man: Far From Home resembles the Spider Protector I designed for this story. I think it's simply because they take the same inspiration (Ditko's original design having meant to be black instead of blue).**

 **Once again, sorry for the delay, and thank you for reading! Drop a review if you can, those really push me on!**

* * *

 **[REFERENCES]:**

* * *

 **Ariel/Attack** : Yup, they're detergent alright.

 **Daiso Sangyo** : A 100-Yen store chain in Japan. In context, Hachiman's essentially calling himself a dollar store Spider-Man.

 **SEGA Saturn:** A game console that released in 1994 in Japan, 1995 worldwide. While SEGA's most successful system in Japan, it floundered in other regions. Its 3D capabilities were inferior to its contemporaries, the Sony PlayStation and Nintendo 64, but its 2D capabilities were on a whole new level. Tobe owns the Model 2 revision, which has round buttons and white casing.

 **Iron Man & Captain America:** You know who these are. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers? Yeah, you know who they are.

 **Thanos-Copter:** The Mad Titan's most secret, most powerful asset. Who needs the Infinity Gauntlet when you have this?

 **Shine On, You Crazy Diamond:** A nine-part composition by the London-based rock band Pink Floyd, released in 1975, as a tribute to former band member Syd Barrett. You should be listening to this instead of reading about it, really.

 **JoJo/Stand:** "Hold on, is that a JoJo reference?". Crazy Diamond is the 'Stand' of the protagonist of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure fourth part. The author, Hirohiko Araki, loves naming characters and 'Stands' after rock music bands and songs. A 'Stand' is an often-humanoid representation of one's inner power, and manifest the most outlandish abilities you can imagine.

 **Jaburo:** In the original Mobile Suit Gundam anime, this was the massive hidden underground headquarters of the Earth Federation.

 **Zeon:** Once again from Gundam, this was the enemy faction that waged war against the Earth Federation. Its politics are very, very messy. Has a tendency to rise again after a few in-universe years, addition of more "Neo" qualifiers optional.

 **Doraemon:** Popular Japanese children's character debuting in 1969. He's a time-traveling cat robot from the 22nd Century, and his adventures involve the crazy gadgets he holds in his 'four-dimensional pocket'.

 **Cyber Troopers Virtual-On:** Seminal high-speed mech combat arcade game released by SEGA for the arcades in 1996. Its all-rounder character is 'Temjin', who is one of the most recognizable robots from the franchise.

 **Mayo Jaga:** A pizza pie served by Domino's Japan. Features mayonnaise as a topping. People crusade against pineapple on pizza when this exists, somehow.

 **JCI:** Japan Craft Inspection Organization. Watercraft are registered under them.

 **110:** The number you call if you need to get in touch with the police in Japan, similar to 911 in the West.

 **Future Gadget Laboratory:** _El Psy Kongroo._


End file.
